


Short Stories

by MorpTheStormwing



Category: Doom (Video Games), Five Nights at Freddy's, Original Work, Undertale (Video Game), Wings of Fire - Tui T. Sutherland
Genre: Blood and Gore, Bloodshed, Child Abandonment, Determination (Undertale), Doom, Emotional Hurt, Evil Plans, F/M, Final Thoughts, Fluff and Angst, Gay, Lies, Love Confessions, M/M, Multi, Original Character(s), Qinter - Freeform, Rage, Sad, Sad Ending, Secrets, Short One Shot, Short Story, Supervillains, Temporary Amnesia, Torture, Villains, Violence, please comment I'm so lonely
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-23
Updated: 2021-02-19
Packaged: 2021-03-07 19:02:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 11
Words: 22,316
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26622595
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MorpTheStormwing/pseuds/MorpTheStormwing
Summary: Just made to be a creative outlet so these thoughts don't distract me while I'm writing my book. Includes:Qinter OneshotVillain MonologueVillain IntroductionFinal Thoughts From A Character In PerilSad Times with an OCAnd more!
Relationships: Doombringer/Nebula, Qibli & Winter (Wings of Fire)
Comments: 7
Kudos: 26





	1. Qinter Oneshot

**Author's Note:**

> This takes place in a story universe that I haven't quite finished writing. There's a lot of exposition in the beginning just to get you caught up, hope you guys enjoy it! Also, this is my first time ever posting on this site, and feedback about my writing, and the overall formatting is very welcome (in fact, encouraged!).

It was about 9:00 at night, and Winter was  _ just _ finishing up his work. It had been a hectic day. One of the scavengers in captivity died from natural causes, and the other scavengers did some kind of ritual. In one talon, it was sad that one of the scavengers had died, but on the other, it was exciting to see how they responded to death. Of course, this comes with a bunch of notetaking, which leads to a ton of notes needing to be organized, which is what took so long. But finally, he was done and began to head back to his cabin. When he got close, he saw shadows of Qibli moving inside. 

It had been about 4 months since Qibli moved in and refused to move out, though it wasn't particularly voluntary, to begin with. After Moon died a couple of years ago, Qibli had sworn vengeance against her killer, who turned out to be more supernatural. Eventually, the killer was apprehended and imprisoned, but not before almost killing Qibli. Qibli had been hospitalized for 3 months, and was now in recovery, with his physical therapy doctor coming to do exercises every other week. They had decided to move Qibli in with Winter because while his physical condition was improving, his mental condition wasn't getting any better. He seems to have almost skipped the first stage of grief and stayed in between the second and third stages for more than a year.

To Winter's surprise, it  _ had _ helped Qibli go from hostile and vengeful, to more like the one Winter was clawmates with all those years ago.

For example, when Winter walked into his cabin, Qibli was singing at the top of his lungs (of course, this was a hyperbole because Qibli, Winter had learned, at the top of his lungs could bring down a mountain) as he worked something on the stove. When he heard the door open he turned and smiled at the icewing, who winced only slightly as he saw the sandwing. Qibli now had multiple scars, going up and down his face, body, and neck. 

"I was beginning to think you'd never show, princess," Qibli remarked with his new and most annoying nickname for Winter. "Sorry, ex-princess. How insensitive of me!"

"What are you still doing awake?" Winter questioned, too tired to deal with his roommate's shenanigans. "The doctor specifically instructed you to go to bed before 8:00 pm every night."

"I've decided I've outgrown bedtimes," Qibli remarked. "Sit down! I made dinner!"

"With what?" Winter wondered. From his memory, there was nothing in the fridge or freezer to eat. The sandwing gave a cheeky grin that worried Winter deeply.

"Well, Turtle came by to check up on us and brought some shark," Qibli explained, and Winter tensed. He tried shark about a year ago, and it had instantly made his top five favorite foods. Plus,  _ Qibli _ was cooking it? As much as he hated to admit it, Qibli was a cooking guru. Winter couldn't be in a bad mood after eating one of the sandwing's meals. 

"I'll try a little," Winter mumbled, and Qibli grinned excitedly. As Winter sat at the table, Qibli brought over a large metal container, the smell making the icewing drool slightly. Qibli giggled at Winter’s behavior.

“Tonight, Icecheeks, we feast!” Qibli exclaimed, lifting the lid. The smell coming from the meal was so good that Winter forgot to address the insulting new nickname. Qibli grabbed a pot as well, dipped a large spoon in, then poured some of the sauce over the shark. He did this a few times before preparing him and Winter’s plate. They sat and ate in silence for a few moments, Winter’s mouth exploding with taste with every bite before Qibli broke the silence. “So how was your day? You got home really late today.”

“It was a really busy day. The scavengers have an interesting ceremony for death. One scavenger spoke for most of the time, but they weren’t related to the scavenger who died. The weird thing is, they spoke the most through the ceremony even though they weren’t related, and everybody listened to him. Oh! And today, Writer, remember him? Well, today he came out to play with his friends with a new toy, even though we didn’t give them one. That means he made it himself! Can you believe it?!”

Winter went on and on about how fascinating scavengers were, and how strange their habits were, and how much he loved his job. In all honesty, when Winter got like this, Qibli would mostly tune out, because while he  _ did _ usually want to hear about Winter’s day, that’s not the main reason he would ask Winter. Truthfully, he just loved when Winter got this way when he forgets to be proper or polite, and just lets himself  _ be.  _ He’s passionate, he’s loud, he moves his talons with every word, he stumbles through words, talks with his mouth full… He’s imperfect, and to Qibli, that’s when he’s the most perfect.

“Anyway, what did you do all day?” Winter asked, snapping Qibli out of his daydream. 

“Oh, umm, not much, just the usual stuff,” Qibli lied, knowing full well that he spent all day slow cooking the shark and trying to perfect the sauce. He didn’t know exactly what had compelled him to arrange this dinner date… Maybe it was the way Winter’s scales glittered like diamonds whenever light hit them, creating the most blinding and beautiful sight; or maybe it was those arctic pools that Winter called eyes, that Qibli felt like he could drown in; or maybe it was the way he moved, high and mighty and dignified, but seductive at the same time.

“Are you ok, smoke-breather?” Winter asked, and Qibli realized that he had been staring dreamily at the icewing. “Or are you about to pass out?”

“Both,” Qibli joked, his heart pounding in his chest. He looked down at his shark. In truth, he wasn’t a big fan of shark, he only cooked it for Winter. But he ate it because he wanted to make Winter happy. Why  _ did _ he want to make Winter happy? The answer came popping up as soon as he thought of the question, but Qibli pushed it back down. 

While Winter ate, he watched Qibli as the sandwing’s mind kept taking a field trip. Qibli was fiddling with a scar that reached from his jaw down to the base of his neck. 

“Do they still hurt?” Winter asked, again snapping Qibli out of whatever trance he was in. “The scars, I mean.”

“Not as much as they used to,” Qibli said meekly, and though Winter could tell there was more to the story, he decided not to push. They continued eating in relative silence, only pausing to make remarks and small talk. 

“You’re being awfully quiet,” Winter pointed out, this seemed to spark something in Qibli causing the sandwing to choke on his water and spill it on himself. 

“Camel spit!” Qibli exclaimed, and Winter shrugged, walking over to his roommate with paper towels. 

“I can’t take you anywhere,” he said with a shrug and grabbed Qibli’s snout to begin drying him. The sandwing tensed under his roommate's touch but stayed incredibly still as Winter dried the water off, going slower and more gentle around his scars. Qibli winced as Winter brushed past the scar on his shoulder, the icewing looked at Qibli’s face and the two made eye contact. Qibli was left breathless as they stayed snouts inches apart, staring into each other's eyes.

Winter stared at the sandwing, for the first time, really  _ noticing  _ the brown dots on his snout; he really  _ noticed _ how his earing brought out his eyes; how his pupils widened whenever he looked at Winter; how his pulse quickened whenever he looked at the sandwing. 

“Are you-” Winter started, but Qibli leaned in, pressing his snout against his roommate’s in a kiss. For just a moment, Winter leaned in; for just a moment, he accepted Qibli’s snout on his.  _ I’m about to kiss Qibli?! _ Winter’s mind screamed, and he pushed the sandwing away from him. Qibli quickly fell to the floor and curled up into a ball, spewing out apologies like a Karen does ignorance. 

“I’m sorry!” Qibli rambled, his voice sounding as if it was close to sobbing. “I-I just- I’ve been confused and I didn’t mean to, I’m so sorry. I was just- I’m sorry- I just thought that- and u=you were so close- I’m sorry you were just so kind and to me and then we were so close and I got confused and… I’m sorry!”

Winter was barely listening. He was in some type of daze. His body wanted to dance or run or hug Qibli but his brain told him to run, to yell at Qibli, and Winter just begged both to do  _ something.  _ But they refused. 

“I’m sorry,” Qibli said, uncurling himself enough for Winter to see that he had tears in his eyes. “You’ve just been so kind to me. After Moon died, I was so mad and hurt and everybody was treating me like I was broken… Everyone but you… And then you let me stay here, and you were so nice and understanding and gentle and… I just got confused…”

Qibli curled back up into a ball. Somebody moved Winter’s legs from under him, forcing taking a step toward his best friend. When he stood over Qibli, the sandwing tensed up as if he expected Winter to hit him; instead, Winter lifted the sandwing off the ground, until they were face to face once again. Qibli’s eyes were puffy and red, and he was still sniffling. Winter reached up and wiped a tear from the sand wings face, who reached up and took the icewing’s talon in his. 

Both the dragon’s hearts were throwing a frat party, but they hardly noticed as they stared into each other's eyes. Winter got his own watery eyes as he realized how much he truly loved his friend. Qibli’s talon came up to Winter’s face to wipe the icewing’s tear, but his talon kept going until it hooked behind Winter’s head. They slowly leaned in and connected their snout in a passionate kiss. This time, neither of them broke away. Winter’s talon found the back of Qibli’s neck, pulling the two closer together. They pulled away for a second for breath, returning to their kissing not a moment later, their experimental kiss quickly turning into a passionate make-out session, talons grasping at the other as the dragons wondered why they couldn't get any closer. As they breathed raggedly against each other, Winter, in a fit of adrenaline and hormones, pushed his tongue into Qibli’s mouth.

Qibli gasped in surprise, both from the gesture and the coldness of Winter’s tongue, but he didn’t particularly dislike it.  _ We are experimenting,  _ Qibli told himself, allowing the icewing to enter his mouth. 

They kissed for a while before finally being able to break apart and control themselves, both of them panting. They closed their eyes leaned their heads against each other for support, feeling light-headed. 

“That was…” Winter tried but was too dazed to come up with the word. 

“I know,” Qibli agreed, still panting lightly. 

“It was weird,” Winter elaborated, also breathless. “But… But good, I think… Yeah… Really good.”

“So… Are we...?” Qibli trailed off, and Winter chuckled and kissed his roommate on the cheek. 

“I love you, sand snorter.”

Qibli smiled. “I love you too… Icecheeks.”


	2. The Twisted One's Escape

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's something I wrote for my main villain of my story, when he finally escapes from his imprisonment. And unlike Darkstalker, he was AWAKE... plotting, waiting for the moment to strike. And now that moment has come, and he couldn't be more prepared.

Log #9127

I’ve done it… I’ve done it! I’ve finally won. The power of the Mystics is at my command, and the most powerful being in the multiverse is soon to be. 

Today was the first day of the invasion. I was advised to wait for backup, but I couldn’t… Not when I’ve already waisted 2 years sitting in a cage, waiting patiently for the moment to arrive; how was I supposed to contain myself? 

When I first escaped, I had to spend a couple of hours just calming myself down so I didn’t explode right then and there. The excitement almost got to me right away! But I did not train for 32 years just to lose control whenever my homicidal urges spiked. Once I regained control, I began an instant takeover of JMA. The soldier proved problematic, but with the power provided by the Mystic Crystal, I was easily able to overcome his speed with time manipulation. As well, by threatening his little boyfriend, I was easily able to bring him to his knees. I must admit, my battle with him was fun, especially seeing him cry as I slit his mother’s throat. Of course, the fun had to end when I broke his neck. 

Killing Sunny also seemed to set off the other sandwing... QIBLI! Sorry, lost the words there. He was screaming about that nightwing Moon that I killed. To be completely honest, after fighting the soldier, Qibli was really more annoying than anything. I thought that cracking his skull would prove to be enough, but he just kept coming back. Next, I broke his leg, then his ribs, but he just kept going! He was literally crawling on the ground, barely holding on to life and yet still trying to get his revenge. 

You know, I was going to kill him. But it’s the unbreakable ones that are always the most fun to break. So, I made an example. I rounded up all of the prisoners, some got away but that’s fine, it’s not like they can do anything. Anyway, I rounded all the prisoners up, and I tortured Qibli as an example. Oh how the children sobbed when I drilled through his talon, filled him up with water then punched him in the stomach, causing him to throw up water and blood; I burned him, giving him 3rd-degree burns which I often lashed at. And even after all that, HE WAS STILL GOING! He was still cursing, acting strong. Probably acting tough in front of all of the rest of the students. But I do love a challenge. 

I had to employ my more harsh methods of torture, including pushing wedges underneath his claws and pulling out his teeth, then placing wedges in between the gums. That really did get him screaming, and it all went downhill from there. When Qibli broke, everyone else did too, begging me to stop with the torture. Just for fun, I did a few more just to get them really begging before I stopped. Besides, once I broke Qibli, it was really no more fun. 

It was fun, watching Qibli stumble off of the stage into Winter’s wings, sobbing as his icewing friend just looked at him in utter shock. It was likely that Qibli wouldn’t survive much longer if my observations were correct, I have broken Qibli’s very will to live. But I won’t stop at Qibli. In fact, I  _ accidentally  _ let Winter and Qibli escape. Knowing Winter, he will think to bring the Sandwing to Thorn, and when the queen sees what I’ve done to Qibli and hears about what I’ve done to Sunny she won’t be able to contain her anger. She’ll release a full-fledged attack on JMA, and then I’ll massacre all of her soldiers, and then I’ll kidnap and torture her general and that’ll probably be the end of Thorn. Maybe I’ll have to give her a chance to save her soldiers, then make them all die a horrible death in front of her. Besides, after her adoptive son being brutally tortured and her actual daughter being killed, she won’t have much left in her. 

Next will be Queen Ruby, which will be easy since I already have Cliff here at JMA, and a few nightmares of Queen Scarlet should be enough to push her over the edge. After that, Queen Snowfall, who was a bit more tricky. I don’t quite have the leverage against her, but I am very crafty. Bringing down the great ice wall just to scare her might be a good start, then I’ll focus on her loved ones, parents, brothers, sisters, lovers, really anyone who might even be remotely related to her. Queen Moorhen was easy, Gator was her grandson, so he had leverage there. And if that wasn’t enough, he would send her nightmares about him dying painfully, maybe throwing Clay into a few of them. Glory…

Oh, I have something  _ special _ for Glory…  _ Very _ special. 


	3. Cyanide and Thorn

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Another villain from the same story, named Cyanide. He loves to speak his mind, and he has something to say to Thorn.

Thorn sighed as she returned to her office after a long, stressful day. Scratch that, the entire month had been one of the most stressful experiences in her life. It had been 4 weeks since Cyanide began asserting his will over those in the justice system, finding and killing criminals with startling efficiency. Thorn had just finished giving a speech about the issue, hoping to quell the divisiveness of the entire ordeal. 

It was at night when Thorn stepped into her office. She approached her desk, then stopped as she saw a shadow behind it. They made no effort to conceal themselves, they just stood extremely still and looked at the queen. The door shut behind her, and the queen tried her best to stay calm as she realized she had fallen into a trap. 

“Quite the speech,” the dragon said in a voice that seemed so obviously artificial. Thorn straightened herself. 

“Who are you?” she demanded, carefully watching the other shadow that she could only see through the corner of her eye. “What do you want?”

“You’re smarter than that,” the dragon said, sighing when they received no response. “We are the poison, that will cure.”

“Cyanide,” she realized, and though she couldn’t see the dragon, she could sense that he was smiling. “So what? Are you here to kill me because I disagreed with you?”

The smile vanished, and the other dragon in the corner of the queen’s eye snarled. “Even after trying to catch me for weeks you still don’t know anything about me?” Cyanide shook his head. “You should know by now that I only target those who deserve it.”

“Did those dragonets deserve it?” Thorn questioned. 

“They’re still alive aren’t they?” Cyanide countered. “I only touched them once, and that was to pull off of the dragonet they were beating. Then, I threatened them, helped the dragonet home, and went on about my business.” 

“So what are you here for?” Thorn questioned. Cyanide gestured for her to take a seat, but the queen did not move; she stood stubbornly in the center of the room. A plume of flame came from the vigilante’s mouth, lighting a candle on the desk and providing some light.

This was no dragon. Not like any dragon Thorn had seen anyway. The dragon in front of her was mostly sandwing in terms of shape and color, but his face was covered by some sort of green mask with large white eyes, that looked less like a mask and more like it was part of him. The same green substance covered all of his legs up to his elbow and replaced his tail barb with a black and green spike. 

“I would really prefer it if you sat,” Cyanide said politely. It infuriated the queen how polite and calm he was while she was trying not to yell. 

“There is a dragon behind me,” Thorn said. “Tell them to move next to you.”

“Hemlock,” Cyanide called, and the shadow moved next to Cyanide. This one was a female sandwing and had all of the green and black markings as Cyanide.  _ There are two of them? The witnesses only ever report one… _ Thorn wondered as they moved toward the desk and sat down. “I would first like to say that I have no intent on hurting you in any way unless the situation arises where I deem it necessary. Regardless, I will not kill you here, or ever. Despite your transgressions and failures, I still believe that you are the best thing to happen to the Kingdom of Sand since Queen Oasis.”

“However,” Hemlock interjected, “we believe that there are improvements to be made.”

“You came here to make suggestions?” Thorn asked skeptically. 

“It’s a bit more complicated than that,” Cyanide admitted. “But that  _ is _ the main idea.”

“You are murderers,” Thorn said bitterly. “You believe that you have the right to judge the worth of a dragon’s life based on their transgressions. Why would I ever help you?”

Cyanide stare at Thorn hardly. “Hemlock, would you please leave us?”

Hemlock looked at Cyanide questioningly, but Cyanide gave her a look and she obeyed, climbing out the window. 

“I’m going to be blunt,” Cyanide said, leaning toward Thorn. “Your justice system has failed and will continue to fail. My first 89 targets were rapists, killers, and abusers that went through the system but came out fine. Do you know  _ why _ they get out? Because dragons are too scared to speak up for themselves, and so they spend the rest of their life scared, walking down the street looking over their shoulders as the perpetrator lives problem-free. It’s time for  _ them  _ to be scared, for a change.”

“So you kill for fear?” Thorn asked. “You kill to keep them afraid so you can control them. That sounds like something a tyrant would do.”

Cyanide shrugged in frustration. “Imagine this. You are the proud mother of two beautiful daughters, with your husband who has been there for you since school. You want your children to be more culturally enriched, so you travel to Possibility, where dragons from every tribe live. But, you just so happen to go there when the attack happens. You rush to get your family to safety, but then the children disappear. You frantically search to find the things you love in the world, and in the process, your husband dies in front of you. You find out later that your children were also killed, and the person who killed them is being called a hero. Can you imagine that feeling? Well that’s what hundreds of dragons felt on the day of the attack, and you did nothing! You paid them to compensate, and then left it alone! I watched! I watched for 2 years as he was celebrated! Decorated as a hero when he was just a killer! He killed the bad guy, but at what cost?!”

Thorn could only stay silent as she was almost pushed back by the rage being radiated by the dragon in front of her. Cyanide pulled his claws across the desk, creating long marks on the wood. “You say that I’m a psychopath? A heartless killer? Tell me, when you ambushed me during one of my kills, how many guards do you think I could’ve killed?”

_ Every single one,  _ Thorn thought, remembering how one of her generals had told her how tentacles had sprouted from his back, taking hold of soldiers and thrashing them around.

“Correct,” Cyanide said as if he could read her mind. “Now, how many  _ did  _ I kill?”

“One,” Thorn said.

“And he was later found to be selling classified information to gang leaders, right?”

Thorn stayed silent, pushing back to urge to admit that Cyanide might not be so bad. But it was no use, she could tell that the dragon in front of her knew everything that was going on inside of her brain. 

“That wouldn’t have warranted a death sentence,” Thorn argued. 

“Then he would just have kept going until it did,” Cyanide retorted. “I took care of it before the harm was done.”

“So what would you say we do?” Thorn challenged. “Kill any criminal who comes our way?”

“Stop the investigation,” Cyanide ordered. “Tell the police to back off, and stay out of our way, so we can punish criminals without interference.”

“And what about when you kill someone that  _ isn’t _ guilty? What about when you make a mistake?”

Cyanide laughed heartily. “Thorn, I have killed 173 dragons so far and have been 100% accurate. Do you believe that I am just incredibly lucky? I have my ways of being sure.”

“You just have an excuse for everything don’t you?” 

“You call it excused, I call it justified.” 

“I will not help you,” Thorn said definitively. “But what I will tell you is this: I will hunt you down, and I won’t rest until you face the crimes that you’ve committed!”

Cyanide didn’t look angry… He looked more disappointed than anything. Then, he sighed, put up his talon. Something thick shot from his talon and wrapped around Thorn face, smothering her snout and invading her body.

“I was hoping we could come to an agreement,” Cyanide said as Thorn fell to the ground trying to pull the thing on his face off. “Don’t worry, I will not take your right to choose, I’m just giving myself a stronger one.

Cyanide went out the window as the thing on her invaded her, latching onto her consciousness and bonding its life with hers. Thorn screamed, but the thing seemed to absorb the sound. The last thing she heard before passing out was an artificial voice, almost identical to the one Cyanide spoke with.

**“You… Are… Compatible…”**


	4. The Betrayal

Starleaf stood no chance against Twisted. He was faster and more skilled than the young hybrid. The Nightmare ran circles around him, with impenetrable defenses and offensive capabilities beyond Starleaf’s comprehension. It was at this moment that Starleaf’s mind decided to drift away, wondering what had led up to this moment. How the person who had been a father figure to him days ago, was suddenly trying to kill him. 

He remembered that day when he had been chased down into the hole where Darkstalker had emerged, to find this strange creature, locked in a cage. Any normal dragon, scratch that, any dragon with any common sense whatsoever would have left and never come back, but not Starleaf. He kept coming back and coming back and coming back until they grew to be inseparable friends in just a matter of weeks. At the time, it simply seemed like a miracle, how a loner like him suddenly found someone who was more than willing to be his friend and just so happened to also be the kindest, most caring, charismatic person, he’d ever met. Of course, with hindsight, now he knew that it was all manipulation; an elaborate trick that had worked up until this very moment.    
  


“I thought you were mine,” Twisted rambled as he beat Starleaf senseless. “I thought that you trusted me! That I could trust you!”

Twisted grabbed Starleaf by the head and hurled him down the steel hallway of the base. The hybrid patiently waited until he came to a stop, before drawing the energy from deep within him (just how Twisted had taught him) and blasting a beam of red light at the Nightmare, who responded by casting his own beam of energy, this one green; Twisted’s beam quickly overtook Starleaf’s, scorching his skin and blasting him back. The wounds quickly healed but left a burning sensation.

Twisted lumbered towards him, his eyes engulfed in malevolent green flames. “I loved you, Starleaf… I loved you as my son…” 

“AND I LOVED YOU AS A FATHER!” Starleaf screamed, causing the Nightmare to take a step back with surprise. All at once tears streamed down his face and his voice broke into tiny sobs. “You were there when no one else was! You were the one I could turn to with problems I couldn’t bring up to mom and dad! When you told me that sloth spit story, I believed you without questioning it because I thought ‘Oh, there’s no way he’d lie to me!’ But I guess I was wrong!”

Twisted stood there, the flames around him slowly dying down as if he was realizing the errors in his ways. “I thought you were going to be the greatest thing that ever lived,” Twisted admitted sorrowfully, the flames slowly coming back to life. “But now I realize… You’re just a kid.”

The flames pulsed back the life, and Twisted, with a yell of effort, sent a fireball the size of the hallway down at Starleaf. The hybrid, helpless, tearful… Powerless… It was funny. If he was to believe what Twisted told him, he had power over life and death itself… and yet he still felt powerless. He started thinking that maybe he deserved this… He had hurt so many people under this delusion that he was doing something right. The signs were all there, but he ignored them for his sensei’s sake. And so, when the fireball was so close he could feel its heat scorching him without even touching it, he was ready for it.

But of course, life threw him another curveball. 


	5. Exposed

He should have known it would end up this way. How could he have possibly thought that he could do it? Was he so stupid to have believed he could do the impossible? Did he honestly believe that he could leave his home, keep up his disguise, fight against all odds, and still win? 

Or maybe he had known all along. Maybe he always knew that things would happen this way, it’s really the only logical solution. He was designed to think tactically, to estimate odds and probability; so how, HOW could something like this happen? 

Nonetheless, there Horus stood in front of the mudwing he knew so well, but who seemed so foreign. He had often seen Gator’s face flushed or nervous or even scared on some occasion, but this was different; his face was contorted in utter shock and terror. Horus looked down at the monster than he had just pummeled to death, realizing that most of his scales had been torn away, revealing the metal plating underneath. 

“Gator…” Horus said softly, reaching out toward the dragon who was kissing him mere moments ago, only to have the mudwing back away from him, terrified. He wanted to say something comforting, so say something charismatic, to be  _ June _ again; but it was too late to hide under that mask now. 

“What in Pyrrhia are you?” Gator murmured. The words grabbed at Horus’s heart and made him want to cry.  _ What do you mean? _ He wanted to scream.  _ I’m June, the dragon you love!  _ He wanted to be mad at the mudwing, to roll his eyes and call him stupid or a mud cuddler, but he couldn’t. 

“I… I-I love you,” Horus mumbled pitifully, the mudwing shaking his head in disbelief and stepping back more. Horus took a step toward his love but jumped back at the mudwing screamed. Gator turned and ran, screaming, begging for help. Horus whimpered, reaching out as if to catch the mudwing in his palm. 

“I’m sorry,” he almost whispered, before hurling himself out of the window and flying away as fast as his wings would carry him, transcending the speed of sound and yet still not going fast enough. He crashed into the side of a mountain, unable to keep flying, and cried. For the first time since Caliber, he bawled his eyes out all night, then through half of the day. His soul hurt. A cruel pain that wouldn’t go away for a long time. 

“Is your plan for me?” he mumbled to the sky. He suddenly stood and screamed at the heavens. “IS THAT WHAT THIS WAS ABOUT?! TEACHING ME MY PLACE?!”

Of course, there was no answer. But this only fueled his rage. This time, he didn’t scream anything coherent, he just screamed. He screamed for several minutes before finally listening to the voice that told him to stop. His whole life, he had been taught to worship Cawthon, to praise him, for he has a good life planned out in front of you, even if you don’t see it. But he questioned it. For the second time in his life, he questioned whether Cawthon’s plan was really as pure as he thought. If that were true, then what was real anymore? 

Was Horus even good? 

He had dedicated his life to helping others, to help to finish a war that had caused so much pain. But at the same time, the darkness that was fueling his enemy’s power also stained  _ his _ soul with selfishness, greed, violence. He thought back to how it had felt to crush that Nightmare’s skull. Had Horus been smiling? The thought made the hybrid sick. 

Inevitably, his mind drifted to Gator. The mudwing had made him feel like a dragon… Not the robotic monster he was now, but a real dragon… One who had grown up in this dimension, with friends, enemies, pain, pleasure, sorrow, joy, fun… And love. His mother would have been with him, loving him unconditionally with his father, whoever it would be in this alternate timeline. He would be blissfully unaware of the secret war that was happening in other dimensions; he would live… and it would be enough. 

But… his mother was the one who took that from him. Who decided to kill him before he was even alive. He looked up at the sky. “Ok,” he said. “You win.”

He turned his tracker back on. This would allow the Cawthons to find him, and arrest him. He was a deserter, after all, it would only be fair. They would be here in a couple of days since it would take a while for the signal to reach them across the multiverse. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Today was his last chance. The Cawthon’s would arrive soon, he was going to tell his mother. The entire time he was in her Winglet, he had been operating under the alias of June. He had convinced himself that he’d tell her eventually but he never worked up the courage until now. He figured that news of his… mistake... would have spread around the school by now, so he wore a coat and a tail muff to hide his defining features. He chose today cause it was especially cold, the wind howling and chilling all but the icewing students to the bone. When he made it to his mother’s classroom, he found her preparing her lesson for today alone.

“Please wait outside the door, class hasn’t started yet,” Sunny said politely, not looking up from her lesson plan. Contradictory to his instructions, Horus closed the door and locked it. 

“I need to speak with you,” he said, ducking his head down when her eyes almost met his. “It’s… It’s urgent.”

He could see the look of concern on her face as she set down the papers to give him her full attention. He took a deep breath and removed his hood. He watched as her eyes widened, and she reached under her desk for the gun he knew was under there. 

“Those bullets aren’t even going to sting,” he informed her, trying his best to stay calm. “I’m not here to hurt you, I… I know what you’ve probably heard… And I think that most of it are true.”

“What do you want, June?” Sunny asked, not taking out the gun, but he could tell her talon was still gripping it tightly. 

“My name’s not June,” he said, slowly walking toward her. At the first step, Sunny drew the gun and pointed it right at his head, her arms shaking from fear. 

“Not a step closer, or I will shoot,” Sunny warned, but Horus stepped closer. She moved the gun and fired at his knee, the bullet traveling through his scales but bouncing off the metal plating. 

“ _ You _ are one of the only ones who knows what my real name is, what is it?” He challenged her, the bullet had taken a chunk out of his patience. 

“I don’t know who you are, or-”

“You have to know, you named me.”

The gun clattered onto the desk, though she made no move to pick it up again. “Mom,” he said, his words tumbling out uncontrollably. “My name is Horus. I am a soldier of Cawthon and an enemy to the Nightmares. After my death, my soul was retrieved and was bound to this body. I-”

“Is this some kind of cruel joke?!” Sunny screamed, picking up the gun and aiming it at him again, tears in her eyes. “I don’t have a son, I never have.”

“Because  _ you _ killed me!” Horus screamed, years of suppressed emotions hitting him like a brick wall. “ _ You _ killed a living thing that  _ you _ created!”

“I don’t know who you are, but-”

“Do you know how much that hurts?! You decided that you hated me enough to kill me before we even met?! Was I that bad?! Was I so impossibly annoying that you just had to get rid of me?!”

“GET THE HELL OUT!”

“NO!” Horus screamed, his body now radiating energy that began to push the desks away from him as he approached Sunny. “I’M NOT GOING TO LET YOU ABANDON ME AGAIN! DO YOU KNOW HOW MANY PEOPLE I WATCHED DIE IN MY ARMS BECAUSE OF YOUR SELFISHNESS?! BECAUSE OF YOUR HATRED?!”

Horus dug his claws into his face and ripped the scales away, showing the metal, scratched, and dented from years of a brutal war. “ **DO YOU SEE WHAT YOU’VE COST ME?! I LEFT MY FRIENDS! MY FAMILY! ALL SO I COULD SEE YOU! BE LOVED BY YOU! AND YOU TELL ME TO GET OUT?!”**

Horus smashed the table in front of Sunny in rage, pushing the two pieces out of the way.  **“NO! I WON’T BE HURT ANYMORE!”**

“I’M SORRY!” Sunny screamed through her sobs, stopping Horus in his tracks. He didn’t know why he was stopping, but he felt some child-like urge to her what his mother had to say. “I’m sorry… I was scared… I didn’t know what I was going to do… I knew I couldn’t support a child that early in my life… And I didn’t even have a choice… He left me with confusion and a child, and I chose what I thought was best for both of us, I never meant you to feel so much pain… I just wanted my life back. I know that’s no excuse, but I’m sorry…”

“Y-You’re defense… Is that you got rid of me so that you could live care-free?” he said, no longer angry. He was spent… All he could feel was despair. He turned away, broke open the door, and was gone. 

When the soldiers came to pick him up, he accepted his fate. And as he was being judged many weeks later, he hoped for the death sentence. 


	6. The Wrath Of The Doombringer

Cytorrak remembered that not long ago, it was actually quite ideal to be a demon, like him. He was a mammon demon, you could think of his kind as the mascot for greed. They made a living by collecting souls through elaborate deals with living creatures. Indeed, the trade took much skill, and Cytorrak was the best at it. The hell priests had come to reward him personally, and he had the protection of the Demon King so none dared to even glare his way. 

Did you know, the average mammon demon collects 12 souls every 20 deals? Well, in his last hundred deals, he had managed an average of 23 per 20 deals, with some deals getting me as many as five souls. He lived a good and comfortable life, in fact, any wealthy demon did. 

Until a few years ago when  _ he _ appeared for the first time. The Doombringer tore through their ranks, ripping through even the most powerful demons with almost no signs of exhaustion despite taking fatal wounds over and over. He shredded open demons 10x his size as if they were paper. And there were rumors, that Cytorrak didn’t exactly believe, that a single punch of his had nearly killed the King of Bokaal, one of the 29 main regions of the demon realm, and destroyed the entire capital city. Of course, these were only rumors (since the Doombringer had ensured there were no survivors). 

Now, every powerful demon, including himself, was on the run; they had been for a while. But now, Cytorrak was done. He was locked in a safe-room with hundreds of armed demonic warriors, and though they were wearing an indestructible material with weapons advanced beyond human comprehension, it was clear that even they knew this room wasn’t going to be safe for long. They could hear the Doombringer slaughtering the goliaths (powerful, hulking demons that stood about 100 meters tall) outside, even the beasts wailed for mercy. 

Next to Cytorrak, another powerful mammon demon began praying to the Demon Lord, uttering pleas of mercy in Infernal. However, these did not help as the Doombringer blew through the entrance, landing with a powerful shockwave that killed most of the guards on contact, and crippled the rest, leaving the two mammon defenseless. 

The Doombringer was several centimeters taller than the demons. His legs were black, while almost everything above that was red, though Cytorrak couldn’t exactly tell if that was natural or if it was from the blood that dripped off his claw tips. From his elbows to his wrists were dark green, while his hands were also black and by far one of the biggest parts of his body. Something many records had failed to point out was his dragon-like wings, which were pale blue, though darkened now by the blood on him. His eyes were large and white, glaring at them without a lick of mercy. 

“Play this right, and I’ll kill you quickly,” the Doombringer said, his voice deep and gravelly. Cytorraks survival instinct took over, and despite himself, he bowed in front of the tank in front of him. The other demon only stood in fear. The Doombringer placed his hand on top of the other demon’s head, his horns stabbing through his hand without even a flinch. 

“Where’s the demon lord?” the Doombringer asked. The other demon didn’t respond fast enough, and so the monster squeezed, causing a scream of pain as his skull pressed onto his brain. “ANSWER ME!”

The other demon began to sob and beg for mercy, still without an answer. The Doombringer squeezed tighter, the mammon’s screams growing louder until their head exploded, spraying blood onto Cytorrak’s face. 

“Are you going to beg?” the creature asked Cyttorak distastefully, and the demon shook his head vigorously. 

“I know not where the demon lord is,” Cyttorak said, his voice cracking with fear. “But I know who knows. The kings are in constant contact with the demon lord, if you-”

The Doombringer roared, shutting the demon up and bringing pitiful tears to his eyes. “You think I do not know that?!” the Doombringer used his foot to shove Cyttorak into the ground. “Are you TRYING to suffer the same fate as your friend?”

Again, the demon shook his head, resisting the urge to beg for his life. “The demon lord is a Cicada demon,” Cyttorak pointed out. “Meaning that his pride is what’s most important to him. Attacking his pride is sure to bring him out of hiding.”

The Doombringer lifted up his foot, before bringing it down hard on the demon’s head, crushing it. As he turned to leave, he saw an Icor, an armored goliath demon, running toward him. His anger flared as he thought of how much trouble they had caused him in his early days, and he focused that anger and pain to summon his power. He made a punching motion toward the demon, the force traveling through the air and punching a hole through the beast, killing it instantly. 

When he exited the fortress, he found multiple of these beasts waiting for him; 9, he counted. “Fist clenched, I’m gonna blood punch ya’,” he chanted, jumping into the air as an Icor punched the ground where he had stood. He somersaulted backwards, and kicked the demon, their head exploding from the impact and further coating the Doombringer with blood. He spread his wings and launched himself into the stomach of another one, shifting his hand into a blade and burying it deep into the beast, before shooting upward.

An Icor caught him off guard, punching him and sending his body flailing into the ground, too quickly for his wings to catch him. His anger swelled, as did his power, and bolted up from the ground and formed his arm into a long blade and cut off the beast’s head, kicking it at another Ichor, their horns burying themselves in his attacker’s chest. He roared anomalistically in a blind rage. Another monster threw a punch, which he kicked to the side. He morphed his hand into a long spike, then hurled into the demon’s eye. 

He jumped onto another monster’s face and dug into their skull with his bare hands. “Rattle what’s left other of your skeletal structure!” he screamed as he split the skull wide open. As another demon approached, he made another punching motion, instead of a shockwave, sending out his energy as a bolt of red lightning that burnt the demon’s face worse than hellfire as he screamed, “RIP AND TEAR!”

It was at this point that he noticed that the remaining demons had begun to run away, attempting to flee the danger zone.  _ You cannot escape!  _ He flew through one of the demons, entering their back and exiting through their chest, before finding the last demon and knocking them down; he brought himself down full force on the demons head, squishing it beneath his feet. 

He breathed heavily as his anger reached dangerous levels, and he began to have flashbacks about who he was doing this for. He rubbed his own mouth as he remembered her smile, the one that had made him warm inside. He remembered the body that he used to hold so closely to his for comfort, and those wings… the wings that used to carry her beautiful figure, now dragged him from bloodshed to bloodshed. 

He hated moments like these because it’s when he slowed down enough to think about what he was doing; it was moments like these when he started to feel guilty for all of the things he had done…

It was moments like these when he thought about stopping; that it would be easier if he just stopped and tried to come to terms with what happened that day.

And maybe he was right.

But he couldn’t stop, for he was unpaid penance manifested into a final consequence. He was the one who never rested, and therefore his grave shall lie empty. 

“Rip and tear,” that was his only purpose, now. Rip and tear for all the tortured souls. Rip and tear for all of the families who had a loved one taken away by the demons. Rip and tear for himself.

Rip and tear for  _ her.  _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please leave a comment, I'm so lonely.


	7. Doombringer Vs. The Demon Lord

When Doombringer entered the home of the demon King, he didn’t know what to expect. To be fair, he didn’t  _ think _ about any of his ventures before, during, or after he did them. But besides that, the Demon King was still quite the spectacle. Unlike the other powerful demons Doombringer had faced, the Demon King was almost his size, perhaps a little taller. He was waiting in a large, empty room except for the support beams on both sides. The Demon King waited at the other end in a suit of armor, and, while not the brightest, it didn’t take Doombringer long to realize why: he wanted a fight.

“Klaba,” the Demon King greeted with a smug grin.  _ Welcome _ . “Kini vana entu piaga.”  _ Took you long enough. _

“Vana kikula vey!” Doombringer roared, his fury igniting his power.  _ You killed her! _

“Ze yun ja naga,” the Demon King countered.  _ We were at war.  _ “Vana tega kat prosu con wan Cawthons.”  _ You knew the risks when you joined the Cawthons.  _

Doombringer’s rage flared again.  _ How dare he suggest it was their fault?! _ “Vana tialava lenkada!”  _ You violated the treaty! _

“En ze kin huwa unto,”  _ and we made a new one. _ “Kilu vana tialava junuwalay.”  _ which you are violating, by the way. _

“Cawthons vo late jasicule ke. Clay yay vey vana kikula.”  _ the Cawthons do not represent me. I’ve come to kill you. _

The Demon King laughed, only making Doombringer that much angrier. The Cicada Demon drew a large, Final Fantasy style sword from his back and pointed it single handedly at Doombringer. “Haka vana lay.”  _ You can try. _

And so, he did. 

Doombringer crossed the room and came up behind the Demon King in a matter of milliseconds, preparing to end this demon’s entire career with a single punch. He reared his fist back, putting all of his anger and aggression into this punch. This was his revenge, his purpose, his-

He made contact, and nothing happened. The Demon King jumped, startled, but that was it, no destruction, no blood; just a startle? Doombringer roared and punched again, then again, and again and again and again. He kept punching until the Demon King caught his fist with a wicked smile. 

“Cla ginak,” he said.  _ My turn. _ His fist was suddenly enveloped in fire, and he launched into Doombringers stomach. The punch seemed to send Doombringer into another world, everything went silent and the world went out of focus. What happened? What  _ was _ happening? He couldn’t breathe or feel or hear, and it was as if he was having an out of body experience. Breath, breath…

_ “Just breath.” What? He was suddenly in front of a familiar rainwing/nightwing dragoness, who was giving him a stern look.  _

_ “I am,” he had responded with a frustrated sigh. He remembered that day when Aurora had been trying for hours to teach him how to summon his Mystic energy but to no avail. “This is pointless.” _

_ Aurora said something that he didn’t understand for a moment. It had been so long since he spoke in his language, he had almost forgotten it. But it only took him a moment to decipher the grunts and growls of draconic. “Just relax… I want you to think about your mother.” _

_ Even now, Doombringer cringed at the prospect. He had never known his mother, a reminder that he was meant to be a killer, even at birth. She had died laying his egg, and his father had been pissed about it his entire childhood. _

_ “I-I… No! Are you insane?” he had scolded her, but she held firm.  _

_ “I know it’s painful, but you have to-” _

_ “I have to trust you, right? Well, forget that!” he had yelled before storming off, dooming himself to learn from Twisted and become a Nightmare. _

He was back. He was buried under rubble, which, with one blast, exploded up and off of him. Doombringer stood up, then ducked down again as the Demon King’s blade swung at him. Despite the size and weight of the sword, he wielded it with surprising speed and efficiency. Doombringer formed his hand into a blade and blocked the next attack.

“Vana hibera jaja,” the Demon King teased.  _ You look tired. _ Doombringer snorted, shoving the king’s blade aside throwing another punch that should’ve been devasting but only bounced off the Demon King’s mysterious armor. Once again, the Demon King’s hand was engulfed in flames and he threw another punch. 

_ He was back in the dreamland, living through another one of his memories. How many of these did he have to go through before he was dead?  _

_ “What a weirdo.” Oh no. He knew exactly where he was now. Clay was dragging him down the hall at Jade Mountain when his powers were just beginning to awaken, and he was able to hear other dragon’s thoughts. He was being brought to the office after he had gotten into a fight with another student. He had won, of course. _

_ “He’s such a freak.” He had always been aware of all the nasty things people thought of him, but hearing them was another thing entirely.  _

_ “Why is he even in this school?” “He’s so grumpy all the time.” “Serves him right!” “I don’t get why they don’t just expel him.” “That kid is such a troublemaker, I wish he would just die.” _

_ “Not today, toots,” he had yelled boldly at the dragon. “I’m too damn angry to die!” _

_ She had given him the middle claw, to which he responded by intentionally flashing his eyes red just to freak her out.  _

In the next moment, he was back, still flying through the air from the punch. He stabbed his claws into the floor and used this grip to slow himself down, before using it to launch forward, running on all fours. He lunged at the Demon King and grabbed his horns, using them to hurl the Demon across the room. Without missing a beat, the Demon Lord used his sword as Doombringer had used his claws, then pushed his hand forward and shot fire from his hand.

Hellfire.

Doombringer had been burned by hellfire only a couple of times, and it was by far one of the worst physical experiences he had ever endured. It had felt like it was skipping his skin and burning his very soul. 

Doombringer jumped out of the way, only to find that the Demon King had used the fire as cover to come almost face-to-face with him. The king grabbed Doombringer by the throat and threw him to the floor before stabbing through him and into the floor. Doombringer moaned in agony, quickly turning to roars as the Demon King blasted Doombringer with hellfire.

_ “What’s your favorite flower?” Another one? In this memory, he was hanging upside down in a tree eating fruit. Through the corner of his eye, he caught a white tail and Doombringer’s heart pounded. Could it be? _

_ “You know that’s really dangerous.” It was her. He turned, and there she was. Her sleek, pale blue scales made it impossible to not stare, and combined with her skinny yet muscular frame made her a complete beauty. “Any moment now, you could fall and break your neck.” _

_ “Wait, is that genuine concern I hear?” he had teased, while the present Doombringer was at a complete loss for words. It had been so long… So long since he’d heard her voice… since he’d seen her smile. _

_ “No, I’m just worried cause if you do break your neck, I’LL be blamed for it.” she retorted, making past Doombringer chuckle, and present Doombringer choke on air. Despite the apparent danger, she wrapped her tail around the branch, and hesitantly joined him. “Not gonna lie, this isn’t bad.” _

_ “Just don’t go for too long, or you’ll pass out,” he warned, making both of them chuckle. He handed her an untouched piece of fruit, which she took and ate, before coughing and dropping from the branch. Doombringer joined her on the ground as she coughed up the piece she ate. “Maybe eating will be the next lesson.” _

_ She gave him the middle claw, but he just laughed helped her up, and soon, she joined him in laughing. They nuzzled each other’s snouts and laid down on the ground, content with each other’s company.  _

When Doombringer was back, the Demon Lord had begun walking away. Doombringer stood up and roared to catch his attention.  _ We’re not done, _ he thought, summoning his rage. “KAS EN TUK!”  _ RIP AND TEAR.  _

Doombringer bolted towards the Demon King and threw a punch that connected with the Demon King’s face. He felt bone and flesh tear under his fist, as the Demon King was launched across the room into one of the pillars. But Doombringer wasn’t done. He picked up the Demon King at both ends and began to pull, fully intending to go until the king split in two. 

The Demon King blasted Doombringer with hellfire, making the beast scream and let go. The king grabs his sword and swung it at Doombringer, cutting him in half. He quickly regenerated, but not quick enough to avoid the next swing, which nearly cut him in half down the middle. Doombringer roared and kicked the Demon King away, pulling the sword out of himself so he could regenerate. Doombringer broke the sword with a grunt of effort, then roared tauntingly at the king as he threw the two pieces to the side. 

The king only smirked, and made a motion as if he was drawing a sword from his hand. Doombringer was annoyed to find a hellfire blade emerge from his hand.

“Clay nafa mugu tikix un kik,” the Demon Lord teased.  _ I have more tricks up my sleeve. _

Doombringer roared and charged at the king, forming his hand into a blade infused with Mystic energy. Their weapons clashed with fantastic sparks over and over, exchanging punches blow for blow. The Demon King was faster and much more skilled, but the Doombringer was unpredictable and by far physically superior. 

Doombringer made the mistake of punching the armor and for a 3rd time, the Demon’s Lord fist flamed up and he punched toward Doombringer.  _ Not this time, _ he thought knocking his fist aside throwing another punch of his own that connected with the Demon Lord’s head. Something clattered to the ground, and it didn’t take long for Doombringer to realize that it was one of the Demon Lord’s horns. 

“Vana ekatuli,” the Demon Lord cursed slowly.  _ You bitch.  _ He suddenly began to chant in a language that the warrior had never heard before, a series of ominous whispers varying in volume and tone. But Doombringer wasn’t going to wait until he was done, he prepared another punch, knowing now to aim for the Demon Lord’s head. But the Cicada caught his punch with a fist made of pure darkness. He looked back at the warrior with pure black eyes and grinned widely. “Claq victok!”

_ I’ve won. _

There was suddenly an explosion of black energy from the Demon Lord, which blew Doombringer backward and knocked down the pillars inside the structure. Doombringer stood, only to be forced down again as several kilometers of netherrack collapsed on top of him, no longer supported by the columns. The warrior pushed against the ground under him, but only managed to get a couple of centimeters before collapsing as something else pushed down on him. He roared in effort and kept pushing until his arms burned but no matter how much he tried he couldn’t get free.

_ Another memory? He guessed that it was from his time in the Nightmares, but when he focused, he realized it was actually quite the opposite. It was during the time he was in the Cawthon’s, and despite the bitterness that came with this memory, he found himself content in its presence; it was actually one of his favorites.  _

_ It was when he was alone in Nightmare-infested territory, and the Cawthon’s thought him dead. He had survived almost 1400 hours fighting non-stop. At the time of the memory, Doombringer was already exhausted, trudging with a backpack full of valuable intel to the nearest Cawthon base, which was still a full day’s trip away, when the Nightmares had found him again.  _

_ An airship came up from behind him, speeding toward the weary soldier, and with no energy to run, he had no choice but to fight. The ship began firing bolts of Nightmare energy, and with no alternative, he had curled up into a ball and put up a shield of mystic energy. Countless shots slammed against his protection as he waited until they had to refill the tank. The shots suddenly stopped, and he struck. _

_ He stuck out his fist and pushed the remainder of his strength into a powerful blast of mystic energy that tore through the ship. It quickly lost control and fell to the ground in a ball of fire. Doombringer had sighed in relief before he heard growling in the distance, and soon, his eyes adjusted to see them. _

_ Grievers. _

_ Hundreds of beings with sharp claws, spider-like legs, and razor-sharp teeth were charging toward him, having picked up on his scent from miles away. The ship had only been there to guide them, and to make sure they locked on.  _

**_I’m not going out without a fight_ ** _ , he had thought fiercely, but he could barely stand. And when he heard another ship coming up behind him, he had closed his eyes and embraced death.  _

_ But that was before realizing that the ship had come from the direction of Cawthon territory. He looked and his heart leaped when he saw the blue insignia of the Cawthon’s. One of the ships landed while the rest went to combat the grievers, and there she was. She came, and picked him up off the ground, saying something to him, but he was way too tired to listen. That is until she kissed him. It made him feel safe and- _

  1. **** Doombringer forced himself out of the memory. He was NOT going to die here. He thought of her, the look of her corpse, her last words; and with it, he found the strength he needed. He blasted up from the rubble only to find his foe was now a giant, looming over him like a man to an ant. Doombringer was quick enough to dodge the Demon Lord’s first attack, but didn’t see the giant’s fist as it swung around and hit him from behind. 



The force sent Doombringer hurdling into the ground, stunned, tired, and in oh so much pain. The Demon Lord laughed and put his hand out to the side. Not a moment later, dark energy sprouted from it and formed the shape of a blade. 

“Kuay nu, Doombringer.” the Demon Lord taunted.  _ Come on, Doombringer. _ “Tuana kikalotay.”  _ Bring doom. _

Doombringer launched toward the Demon Lord, who simply caught the now puny warrior, threw him up into the air and used his sword like a bat to launch him once again. The warrior helplessly tumbled through the air until he crashed into a mountain. Somehow, the Demon Lord was on him again, stomping on the defenseless warrior. 

_ “Come on, you can do it!” Now THIS was a memory from his time in the Nightmares. Twisted was testing Doombringers strength, having him hold a piston in place that would slowly increase in pressure. So far, the piston was simulating 28 Million kg, and was slowly increasing.  _

_ “I want to stop!” he had yelled fearfully, unsure if he could go any longer. But Twisted only kept yelling encouragement, until finally listening to his pleas and turning the machine off. He had instantly collapsed and began crying. If Twisted had kept it on for a moment longer, Doombringer may have been crushed. _

_ “We’ll just try again tomorrow,” Twisted said, comforting Doombringer as he cried.  _

By the time Doombringer was awake, he was already being ripped from the mountain. The Demon Lord threw him down, then struck Doombringer with his knee. 

_ “Hey, Doom?” His love had asked to him as they put their equipment away, back when Doombringer had still needed weapons to slay powerful foes. He had turned to her, noting the heavy anxiety in her voice. She didn’t turn away from the rack, despite seeming to have stored everything she needed to. _

_ “What’s going on?” he had asked, fearing the worst, but not even close to ready for what was to come.  _

_ “Would you ever consider having a child?” she asked, finally turning around to meet his stunned gaze. Her own eyes were watering, wide with hope. “With me?” _

_ “I-I…” He hadn’t known how to respond to such a question. His body wanted to take off running, but his heart wanted to stay with her and scream YES, but his brain told him that it would never be possible.  _

_ Then, he looked into her eyes and all parts of him came to a decision. He ran toward her and kissed her, lifting her up as she wrapped her wings around him. He teleported them to their living quarters, where they would conceive their first child.  _

When Doombringer woke up again, he was instantly put back to sleep as the Demon Lord punched him mid-air. “Vana yuk wanara!”  _ You are weak! _

_ Doombringer waited impatiently inside of the living quarters when she returned. “I did it.” _

_ “And?” he asked expectantly, hoping, praying. A wide grin spread across her face. _

_ “I’m pregnant,” she said, holding back tears of joy and Doombringer ran up to her and lifted her off the ground, spinning her in the air and twirling her around. He cried and laughed in overwhelming euphoria.  _

_ Of course, the situation was much more complicated. The Cawthon’s could not know, for if they found out, they would be separated; Doombringer wasn’t going to let that happen. But in the moment, he pushed those doubts to the back of his mind and was just  _ **_happy_ ** _ with his lover.  _

Doombringer woke up, and tried to stand but once again the Demon King was there to knock him back down with a stomp. “Heek Rey fy cla bu vanar zahju.”  _ Say hi to your girlfriend for me. _

_ “Doom!” his father called. According to legend, his father had once been goofy and light hearted, but Doombringer didn’t believe them. If they were ever true, now, his father was far from the charming nightwing he used to be.  _

_ It was then, as he walked up from behind his father’s chair, that he realized he could kill the grumpy nightwing. Of course, he decided against it at the time. But Doombringer remembered the time when he’d decided he had enough of his father’s beatings, and hurtful words, and murdered him.  _

Doombringer was able to rip himself from the memory, but he didn’t last long in the waking world. The Demon Lord had switched tactics and was now pummeling Doombringer into the side of the mountain. 

_ “One of the kings violated the treaty,” Aurora explained as they gathered their equipment. “To prevent the demons from joining the war, the Cawthon’s are sending a task force of 8 to speak to the Demon Lord for negotiations. If we fail, we retreat to arrange a meeting with Satan, who holds jurisdiction over both Hell, and the Demon Realm. Understood?” _

_ “Yes, ma’m,” everyone confirmed, leaving only Aurora to record the weapons taken, and Doombringer to talk to Aurora.  _

_ “I don’t think Nebula should go on this mission,” Doombringer blurted. Aurora didn’t even lift her head.  _

_ “It’s not up to me, this is an order from the highest higher ups there is,” she stated, finishing the recording and heading for the exit. Doombringer stepped in front of her.  _

_ “Then disobey,” Doombringer ordered, though it was more of a plea. “Or lie. Whatever you do, she is not going on this mission.” _

_ Her face hardened in anger before seeing the pleading look in his eyes. “My moons, Doom,” she gasped. “What did you do?” _

_ Doombringer didn’t answer, but that gave Aurora all the information she needed. “You got her pregnant, didn’t you?” she asked, her face twisting in horror. “WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU?!” _

_ Doombringer didn’t answer, and she sighed in frustration. “You’ve really f*cked me up here, Doom. I can’t disobey or they’ll find out why… I’ll give the retreat order if I see anything coming, but that’s all I can do.” _

Doombringer awoke, only to be put back under by the next blow. 

_ As they entered the Demon Lord’s chamber, he was waiting for them. Aurora spoke demon tongue, so she did the negotiations. At the time, Doombringer didn’t know it, but now that he did, he realized that the Demon Lord had no intention of ever making a deal. _

_ “Retreat!” Aurora yelled as the Demon Lord fired his first blast of Hellfire. Horus dutifully blocked Aurora from it, and began to retreat with the rest, until they found multiple demonic warriors waiting. It had been an ambush, and they had fallen right into it. As soon as Doombringer realized this, instead of springing into action like the rest, he went to find Nebula, who he found was part of the group attacking the Demon Lord. _

_ The Demon Lord sang a familiar chant to the one he did before turning into the giant, and Doombringer had to watch as he shot a black spike directly through the chest of the love of his life.  _

_ “NOOO!” He had screamed, running over to his love. He had tried to use his mystic energy to heal her, but he couldn’t. Whatever that black energy was completely blocked his energy from even going near the wound. So he just had to hold her and watch helplessly as the life drained from her eyes.  _

_ “I-I…” she tried to say, blood filling her mouth. “I wanted to name them… Peacebringer.” _

_ And then she was gone.  _

Once again, the king’s punch put Doombringer back under his trance. 

_ He remembered this next one, though it was so long ago, it was unforgettable. It was the first time him and Nebula combined. The experience was confusing to say the least, but once they figured it out it felt… great. Their power combined made them the most powerful being alive. For hours they just ran and flew, learning to sync their thoughts and move naturally.  _

_ Though this was quite early in their relationship, it almost felt like an intimate exchange. In order to move successfully, their complete trust had to be in the other. And the moment they started closing themselves off, was when they separated.  _

Doombringer was brought back, only to have the Demon’s Lord’s sword cut him in half down the middle. The black energy consumed him, killing him slowly. 

_ As he sat next to her dead body, he couldn’t even think. He just sat there, frozen, broken. Then, he turned around, and performed what would later be deemed his “Blood Punch”, knocking the Demon Lord back long enough for Aurora to open a portal. They retreated, but Doombringer stayed. _

_ “I’M GOING TO KILL YOU!!” He screamed, running at the Demon Lord but being pulled back by Horus. “LET ME GO! I’M GOING TO KILL THIS BASTARD!!” _

_ “It’s not our mission!” Horus yelled back, pulling Doombringer back through the portal.  _

_ “I’LL BE BACK!” he promised. “AND I’LL DESTROY EVERY LAST ONE OF YOU! MARK MY WORDS!” _

Doombringer tried to wake up, but he was too weak. The dark energy was taking a hold of him, eating away at his soul, and he let himself drift away. 

_ The next memory started with fury, as Doombringer broke the table in front of him during a briefing. “What do you mean you’re not going to do anything?!” Doombringer had howled. It was a few weeks since Nebula had died, and he had just been told that a new treaty had been formed. In short, they were going to do nothing about it. _

_ “Doom,” Horus comforted him. “I know it’s hard, but we can’t do anything beyond it. The Demon King’s punishment has already been issued, and any further action would result in another violation of the treaty.” _

_ “Screw the treaty!” Doombringer had roared. “Screw the demons!” _

_ “You’d best watch your tone!” their commander had said, and Doombringer’s anger flared.  _

_ “MAKE ME!” he screamed with a pulse of energy that pushed everything away from him. They all looked at him in shock, and the normal Doombringer would’ve been embarrassed, would’ve sat back down and apologized, but not the new one. Already, his power had begun to grow, feeding off his rage, his grief, his agony.  _

_ Doombringer had stormed out the room with not just a newfound hate, but a plan. _

**GET UP!** He ordered himself, but his body wouldn’t listen, it was too tired; too tired of fighting, too tired of killing, too tired of living. 

_ He had heard stories of the mystic crystal, a relic so powerful it once birthed a universe by accident. He had also heard of the consequences of someone holding it, which could be narrowed down to two main outcomes: power beyond comprehension, or instantaneous death. And at that point, as he stood in front of it, he was willing to accept either. As a mystic himself, he was one of the only ones who could be so close to it, as it radiated power energy only mystic’s could absorb. And absorb he did, soaking in the crystal’s empowering energy before refocusing himself. He took a step toward the crystal.  _

_ “Doom!” Aurora was behind him, standing at the door. “I know what you’re about to do, but I beg of you, don’t do it!” _

_ For the first time in years, he saw tears running down her face.  _

_ “Trust me, I miss her, too. But there are other ways!” She said. “We can do this together!” _

_ “The Cawthons won’t do anything!” he yelled back, and began hesitantly reaching for the crystal. “So I must.” _

_ “Think of Peacebringer!” she yelled, and he stopped. Was he betraying his unborn child by doing this? How could- _

_ How could she know? _

_ She wasn’t within earshot, which means… That’s how she knew he was here, that’s how she was on time.  _

_ “You knew,” he realized, his rage building. “YOU KNEW THIS WOULD HAPPEN!” _

_ She was silent for a moment. “I knew it was possible, but I didn’t think-” _

_ “ _ **_YOU KNEW!_ ** _ ” he screamed, his energy pulsing. The crystal reacted instantly, latching onto the source. He screamed again, this time in pain, as he was sent through a million realities all at once while he was pumped full of energy.  _

_ Too much. It was too much. He was going to explode, he was sure of it. But his body just took and took and never stopped, until the crystal let go of the monster it had just created.  _

_ Despite everything, Doombringer was far from exhausted. Quite the opposite, he was invigorated!  _

The sword was lifted from Doombringer, making him thinking that maybe he had a chance again, before it came back down on him. 

_ With his new power, he pushed past anyone who got in his way until he made it to the portal room. His presence in the room alone overloaded the system and destroyed the machine, eliminating any chance of the Cawthon’s following him.  _

_ His plan was simple. He was going to kill the Demon Lord, and then kill himself.  _

_ So you can imagine his dismay when he arrived at the Demon Lord’s chambers, and no one was there. The Cawthon’s had sent him a warning, not wanting to endanger the treaty, and so he had fled. Doombringer roared in anger, then whined in despair when he realized what the Demon Lord had done. On the wall, stood the wings of the love of his life, put up for display.  _

_ “I’m going to avenge you,” he said to the wings, taking them off the wall. “And you’re going to do it with me.” _

_ He melded with the wings, wearing them as his own as a reminder of who he was doing this for. He would kill the Demon Lord. If need be, he’d kill them all. He’d rip them open, he would tear them apart! Rip… Tear… Until the job is done!  _

“Doom,” Doombringer was awakened by a cold talon in his, and he looked to the side to see her standing next to him, that beautiful smile on her face. “It’s OK, you can let go now. Be with me.”

He wanted to, he wanted to so desperately. All he wanted was to push this all behind him and go be with her and raise a child and be the family he’d wanted. But he couldn’t.

“I-I need to do it,” he said, and her face fell. He didn’t want to let her down, but he needed to avenge her!

“Peace,” she said, and a little dragonet sidled up beside her. Doombringer gasped, it was  _ his _ . There was no way of actually knowing from just a look, but he did, he just  _ knew. _ “Stop this madness. Come and be with us.”

Doombringer was silent. He needed to go with her, he knew that. She needed it, and he needed it… Peacebringer needed it. It would be a blissful, happy life, with everything he ever wanted. 

But he would never be at peace, with the Demon Lord still around. “I’m doing this for you.” he said, and to his despair, she began to fade. He heard the Demon Lord laugh. 

The king stopped laughing when his black sword suddenly turned red, then shattered into a million pieces, and the rubble where Doombringer was shot upward. The warrior stood up, radiating red flames. The Demon Lord only smirked, knowing he couldn’t be hurt while Raptor was empowering him. He created another black sword and swung it and the warrior.

The Doombringer caught the blade. 

“KAS,” the Doombringer said, rearing his fist back. “EN!”

“TUK!”

_ Rip and Tear. _

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

As Aurora prepared for another mission, she felt a minor tugging on her brain, but decided to ignore it. A spike in mystic energy was no big news ever since Doombringer began running amuck. But then, it was different. The tugging turned into ripping, and she screamed and fell to the floor, writhing in pain. 

Millions of demons, the Demon Lord, all dead in an instant? How? Why? Was this another mystic crystal? Soon enough, her own mystic energy brought her to the scene of the crime, and she gasped at the sight. 3 entire regions of the Demon Realm had been reduced to ash, 9 others heavily damaged. 

Countless spirits stuck around a certain area. Was this the epicenter of the explosion? When Aurora looked where the ghosts seemed to be transfixed she saw nothing different. No bones, no body. What were they so drawn to?

She finally got her answer when a black mass started to gather on the ground. Could it be? It was. 

Doombringer burst up from the ground, roaring in fury, and the spirits cheered. Aurora only stood, paralyzed. He  _ had _ done this! But how? Doombringer was powerful, but this was beyond anything she had ever seen him do. But there he was, at the center of the explosion, regenerating, crawling. 

“Penance left unpaid,” one of the spirits began singing, and soon other’s joined in. “before thee manifests. And empty lies a grave, for he who never rests. Tempering his blade, we kneel at his behest. As the sky grows ever sullen with a culling are we blessed!”

That’s when it occurred to Aurora, these were worshippers. Worshippers of the Doombringer’s wrath.  _ Other’s just like him, _ she realized.  _ Other’s who had everything taken from them, except, they couldn’t fight back. _

“The gates of hell, embrace you welcome hooooooome,” they sang, rising in volume and conviction as Doombringer stood over his work, the wings on his back only bone at this point. “Fall from grace, weary angel. Let your hatred swell, with rage unquelled, unbroken. Spare your faith, shed your halo.”

Doombringer finally stood upright, clearly still in pain but pushed onward by some empowerment, though she doubted he could hear the spirits. 

“The bible tells such lies-- the bells are tolling! Keepin’ demons abound! And where embers dwell, remember well to stoke them!”

All the spirits suddenly came together, even those who weren’t singing sang this last line. “NOW THAT YOU’VE FOUND YOUR HOME IN HELL!”

Doombringer roared, willing the pale blue wings to regenerate. He was more than a rage monster, he was an idol, a slayer. More than that, he was a god. 

And as the song suggests, he’s just made a home in hell. 


	8. Date Night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is a continuation of my previous oneshot, so if you didn't like the last one... frick off.

3rd times a charm, that’s what they say, right? Well, Qibli had never been superstitious, but he  _ worships _ whoever came up with this saying. After 2 tries, Qibli had finally been able to convince the higher-ups to give Winter a day off. On his normal days off, Winter was always too tired to do much, and Qibli didn’t want to deprive his best friend of his rest. 

Qibli had been so excited about his date with Winter, that he had forgotten how much he hated being outside the house. His muscles ached quickly, making long-distance travel quite a pain in the tail. By the time they reached the restaurant, the sandwing’s legs were  _ burning;  _ but Winter was so patient, always assuring Qibli that it was okay if he needed to stop and take a break. Something Winter couldn’t help, however, was how other dragons looked at him. 

It was always just for a second, but he noticed them every time. The shiver or shift from discomfort, or the looks of distaste or worry, and even the occasional glare as if he was being a nuisance by looking this way. Winter eventually seemed to notice Qibli’s discomfort and nuzzled him affectionately, which calmed Qibli for a moment before he realized that now  _ Winter _ was getting judgmental glances. 

_ How dare they?! _ Qibli thought, returning their looks with little glares of his own. He understood their looks toward himself, he was covered in injuries he shouldn’t have survived, it was his fault, and his fault alone; but Winter? Winter chose the path opposite of Qibli, so he escaped without these scars; he made the right decision, he shouldn’t have to endure this!

A cold talon on his shoulder made him turn with bared teeth, but Winter didn’t even flinch; he just looked at Qibli with those deep blue eyes, silently encouraging him to take a deep breath, to relax; for a moment, Qibli was afraid that the icewing knew, that he figured out how dark the path Qibli had chosen really was. But he realized that he was just worried about his friend… his lover. So Qibli tried his best to calm down and continued walking.

“Is this the place?” Winter asked when they reached a restaurant in the Rainwing Kingdom, and Qibli nodded. It wasn’t the fanciest place around, but it was one of the only “fancy” ones within walking distance. Also…

“It’s run by a rainwing seawing couple, so they have some seafood,” Qibli explained, hoping that Winter would understand the subtext; judging by the way his face lit up, he did.

When they entered, Winter was surprised by how empty it was; Qibli chose to keep the fact that he rented out most of the tables to himself. He had gotten Sunny to get some money from Thorn and give it to him. It hurt to get money indirectly from Thorn, but he didn’t think he could face her after everything that had happened. 

During the entire ordeal, Thorn had been in direct contact with Qibli… He had been a monster. Moon’s death had filled him with such hatred that he had become a bloodthirsty monster of pure rage, going after and even killing anyone associated with her killer… Until the killer eventually returned the favor, beating Qibli to the brink of death. 

The waitress sat them down and handed them the menu, then left them alone for them to order. 

“I still don’t know how you convinced the Talons Of Peace to give me a day off,” Winter said with an affectionate smile. “Those smoke breathers are stubborn.”

Qibli smiled. It had proven difficult, but let’s just say that Qibli didn’t spend all of the loan on the restaurant. 

“I have my ways,” Qibli said smugly, scanning the menu. But when he looked up at Winter, the icewing had a look in his eyes; the look he always had when he wanted to say something. “What is it?”

Winter was silent for a moment, then took a deep breath and asked, “Have… Have you talked to Thorn lately?”

Qibli had to stop himself from getting defensive like he did whenever somebody said the queen’s name. “No,” he said almost bitterly. “Why?”

“You know, you really should,” Winter said, and Qibli bit his bottom lip. It seemed like everyone was saying that now, saying that Thorn wasn’t mad at him, that she just wanted to see him again; but Qibli was sure it was a lie, how could she forgive him after what he said to her? “I spoke to Riptide recently, and he said-”

“Well I don’t see you all snuggly with your parents so you can back off,” the moment Qibli said it, he regretted it. Winter’s face dropped back to the menu and he was silent for the rest of the time. The waitress came back and took their orders before returning to the kitchen. “I’m so sorry.”

“No, it’s fine,” Winter assured him, not looking up. “I know it’s a sensitive subject.”

“No, it’s not fine!” Qibli almost shouted. How could Winter be so calm right now? “I-I just took advantage of what I knew was a sensitive subject for you when you were trying to help me! Why aren’t you madder?”

“Qibli,” Winter said, looking up into the sandwing’s eyes. “You went through what no dragon in the history of Pyrrhia has had to go through ever.”

“But-” Qibli tried, but Winter shushed him, encasing the sandwing’s talon in his own.

“You’re ok,” Winter assured him, and Qibli wondered what he had done to deserve such a perfect dragon. He intertwined his tail his Winter and pressed his head against Winter’s. He was so thankful to have Winter in his life. What  _ had  _ he done to deserve him? 

Nothing. Not a single thing. He was a simple boy from the Scorpian Den who got wrapped up in some weird trouble. And then… And then when Moon died, he… He didn’t even want to think of the things he did at that time. But none of it mattered now that he was with Winter, he was safe. 

When the food came, Qibli smirked at Winter’s reaction. The icewing was practically drooling from the smell alone, he watched as Winter’s eyes, wide with lust, watched as the shark was carried over to their table. Unable to help it anymore, Qibli burst out laughing. “Your face,” Qibli teased in between laughs. Winter only spared a glare as the food was brought to the table, and he instantly began to dig in. 

“Thank you, Qibli,” Qibli said, imitating Winter. “Oh, no problem Winter. It only cost a fortune.”

Winter looked up affectionately at Qibli, which was really all the sandwing needed, before digging back in. Qibli began to eat his own food, which was alright, nothing too encapsulating. This seemed to catch Winter’s attention, and he left his shark, which was half gone by now, to wipe his mouth and speak. 

“You haven’t been eating a lot lately,” Winter observed. “Is everything alright?”

The sandwing hadn’t even noticed, but now that he thought about it, he  _ had _ been eating less lately. “It’s probably just because I’m healing,” Qibli said. “My appetite was only so much higher lately because my body needed the extra nutrients. I guess that means no more of those disgusting protein drinks!”

They both chuckled. His doctor had told him to drink at least one of the protein drinks a day, but they were so, so gross. Winter had tried one, just to see what all the fuss was about, and nearly threw up. 

“Good!” Winter said. “I’m tired of buying poo with protein powder in it!”

Qibli laughed again, before blacking out. It must have only been for a moment, since when he could see again, Winter was just coming down from laughing. 

“What did you say?” Winter asked, and Qibli cocked his head at him.

“What do you mean?”

“You said something. Keicellium or something,” Winter said, and the sandwing’s breath was caught in his throat. That was impossible… 

“Are you okay?” Winter questioned, noticing Qibli’s sudden distress. His heart pounded too hard in his chest and he couldn’t push the air in or out of his lungs. Why was his mouth dry? He reached for water but his talons were quaking, and he ended up knocking it down. He knew what was happening, but he couldn’t communicate it. He clutched his chest as he fell from his chair, and he distantly heard Winter yelling his name. Then, he was gone, everything was gone. 

When he was back, he was no longer in the restaurant, but in his old home; when he looked out the window, he found that it was in a black void. He nearly had a second panic attack. Why was he here?! He had quit, he hadn’t used it since he was hospitalized! He didn’t want the power anymore, he hated it! It ruined  _ everything _ , and he was just starting to put it back together! 

“I told you,” Qibli whirled around to find  _ him _ standing there. His eyes narrowed in hate at Keilessium, the creature that had offered him the power in the first place. He was nothing but a ball of smoke with red eyes. “There is a price for such things.”

“But I stopped!” Qibli shouted, tear filling his eyes from fear. “I don’t want it anymore!”

“But it wants you, it’s had a taste, and it wants more,” the shadow said, and somehow, Qibli could tell it was smiling. “The Nightmare within will not cease to exist, no matter how much you will it.”

“STOP!” Qibli screamed, and suddenly he was back in the restaurant, Winter standing over him worriedly. The other patrons were staring at him.

“Are you alright?!” Winter asked urgently. The icewing helped Qibli into his chair, while the sandwing was quiet, only stared blankly. He dug into his food, suddenly finding it a lot more appetizing. Silent tears streamed down his face as he ate until Winter grabbed his talon. “Qibli,” he said softly. “Come here.”

Qibli gratefully obeyed, coming around the table and burying his face in Winter’s chest, quietly sobbing into the icewing’s cold, yet warm embrace. “Check please,” Winter said while Qibli sobbed his worries and sorrows away. 

  
  
  
  


Winter had carried Qibli most of the way home, the stares from others that once made the sandwing angry now made him flush hot with shame. When they made it home, Winter grabbed Qibli’s arm before he could run upstairs and lock himself in his room, and kissed him. He kissed him deeply and lovingly, trying to get the message across that today didn’t change anything, that he still loved Qibli with all of his heart. 

But the sandwing pushed him away, refusing to meet the icewing’s eyes. “I-I-”

“Don’t you dare say ‘I’m sorry,’” Winter told him, twining his tail with the sandwing’s. “It’s not your fault.”

“It is!” Qibli yelled. “Winter, something happened after you left. I did something that I shouldn’t have, and now it’s back! I’m dangerous, Winter!”

“Qibli!” Winter yelled, grabbing the sandwing roughly by his horn. “I’ve watched you die!”

The sandwing was forced into silence by his own shock. Tears were now streaming down Winter’s cheeks. “In the hospital, I watched again and again as your pulse dropped to zero, wondering every time if this was going to be the last. I was hopeless, Qibli, but I held on to you. Now, as hopeless as things may seem now, I’m asking you to hold onto me.”

Qibli nodded and kissed Winter, their worries and sorrows washed away, even if it was just for a moment. Even though he knew this was beyond him, even though he knew it may kill him, Qibli just held on to Winter and focused on the feeling of cold scales against his own. 

They had each other, and maybe that would be enough to save him. 


	9. Doomdertale

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Doombringer is stranded in the land of Undertale with no memories of his past self.

It had been 2 years since Frisk had freed the monster’s from the underground, and a year since Doombringer came into their life. He had come out of a crack in the sky, and yet, he filled the crack in their hearts… Yeah, not a poet; whatever the case, he was now part of the family.

It hadn’t always been this way though, and the hole in their wall, which was still in the process of being fixed, was proof of that. When he had first woken up, he had nearly killed Undyne before going into a 4 month coma; the second time he woke up, he had punched a hole in a wall and gone on a rampage, unable to control his abilities.

Now that Frisk thought about it, it was a miracle that after all of that, she was still able to convince everybody to keep him around; well, it was hard to blame someone who could barely remember their own name. The first few weeks were the hardest, but once he got used to his abilities and adjusted to their society, he became something of a model citizen.

Now, he was especially helpful in the winter season; Frisk was reminded of this when he showed up outside of Toriel’s house during the Christmas party with nearly an entire tree over his shoulder. “I got the firewood!” he proclaimed, dropping the tree on the ground with a loud BOOM! Needless to say, they were set for the night.

Inside, all of her friends were setting up the music, food, and drinks. When Doombringer got inside, they noticed his clothes were torn as if someone with claws had attempted to maim him. “What happened to you?” Toriel asked worriedly, but he didn’t look concerned, only stood there with a goofy smile.

“I was attacked by a bear,” he said sheepishly as if he was embarrassed about it. Toriel’s eyes widened and her mouth dropped with surprise, while Frisk snickered in a failed attempt to hold back a laugh. “I’ll go change.”

Doombringer ran upstairs while Toriel shook her head and smiled. “What am I gonna do with that boy?” she wondered, chuckling. “Has anyone seen Undyne and Alphys? They were supposed to bring the cookies!”

“You put Undyne in charge of baking the c-cookies?” Papyrus questioned worriedly, and Frisk remembered her cooking adventure with Undyne in the underground, the one that destroyed her old home. Toriel chuckled at the skeleton’s worry. 

“I told Undyne to carry the tray, Alphys is the one cooking,” she assured them, earning a collective sigh of relief. Doombringer returned downstairs in a button-up shirt and dress pants. Sans let out a cat call whistle.

“Man of the hour,” the shorter skeleton teased, making Doombringer blush.

“You look good, Doom,” Frisk complimented, making him blush even deeper. He never could take a compliment without becoming the most flustered living thing on the planet.

“Is everyone here?” he asked, and as if on cue, Undyne kicked the door open. 

“We’re here!” she announced, strutting in like she owned the place. She was wearing clothes somewhat similar to Doombringer, while Alphys, who followed close behind her, was wearing a black dress with pink flowers sprinkled here and there. 

“Sorry we’re late!” Alphys apologized. It still astounded Frisk how two monsters so impossibly different from one another could be such a cute couple! “We lost track of time watching The Notebook.”

“It’s fine,” Doombringer assured them. “I just got here, too! But now that we’re all here, I want to show you all something I’ve been working on!”

Toriel and Frisk shared a questioning look. This was the first time either of them had heard about this, and they all lived in the same house! Everyone else shared the same surprised look on their face, well, everyone but Sans, who looked smug. 

Doombringer guided them all into the living room, where he instructed them all to sit on the couch, and though it took some squishing and squeezing, they all managed to fit. “So,” he warned them. “When I do this, I’m gonna need you all to refrain from standing up.”

Then, with that warning, he took a deep breath and transported them to another world. 

Frisk’s breath was taken as the room around her melted away, leaving them floating in space, distant stars and floating planets that looked so real she was almost afraid to move, thinking that she would float off and never come back. But she was safe as the couch dipped downwards onto the earth, finally landing in a snowy wonderland. Buildings made of colorful candies with comically small features lined the street as elves skittered about the busy sidewalk, Christmas trees lining each side. Blinking lights danced across each of the houses, filling the space with a festive atmosphere. A distant “Ho ho ho” was heard as a Santa’s slay flew overhead.

The scenery slowly fell away and they were back in the living room, an exhausted Doombringer in front of him, sweat dotting his forehead. He looked at them expectantly. “Well?” he asked, an almost desperate look on his face; but he didn’t get an answer for a while, everybody was too speechless to speak. 

“Who was the big guy at the end?” Papyrus asked, and Doombringer’s face fell.

“That was Santa, I read about him in some books so I assumed you all knew about him, sorry,” Doombringer apologized. Papyrus earned a sharp elbow from Toriel, exclaiming quietly. 

“It was wonderful!” Frisk assured him, jumping up to up him. Even though she was 14 now, she still barely came up to his chest. Doombringer was at least 8 ft. tall, the only monster she knew able to surpass him being Asgore himself. 

“You really liked it?” he asked hopefully. Other members stood up from the couch and joined the action, soon turning into a messy group hug. 

“We loved it,” Toriel assured him, and he hugged them all back, nearly crushing everyone with his strength. 

“Yeah kid,” Sans agreed as they dispersed. “That must’ve taken a skele-TON of practice.”

Doombringer chuckled while Toriel howled with laughter and Papyrus groaned. The rest of the evening went about probably as smoothly as it could’ve gone, they ate food, told bad jokes, apologized to Papyrus, and had a great time.

That is... until it was time for the games.

Something about Undyne seemed to set off something in Doombringer, and every time they played, they’d end up becoming arch-enemies; not even putting them on the same team could stop their quest to best each other. So, you can imagine, when they started the relay races, how much snow was kicked up and into all of their faces as the two dashed forward, passing the point they were supposed to turn around at and disappearing into the forest. Eventually, though, they came back at the same speed, Doombringer slipping on ice and crashing through the backyard fence.

This combined with the musical chairs ended up being the final straw before they decided to just watch a movie. So, they watched “How The Grinch Stole Timmy,” an Underground Classic, before eating dinner, singing some carols, and eventually preparing to end the evening. 

So, when everything was said and done, it was up to them to clean it up. “Don’t worry mom,” Doombringer assured Toriel. “I’ll handle it. You cooked, the least I can do is clean up.”

She smiled, gave him a kiss on the head *standing up on her tippy toes to do so, and then went up to bed. At about midnight, the next morning, Frisk awoke from a nightmare. She sat up quickly in a cold sweat, breathing heavily as she reminded herself that it was just a dream. She couldn’t remember what exactly her nightmare had been about, but she thought it had something to do with Doombringer.

She didn’t dwell on it, not wanting to accidentally fall asleep and return to it. She got up from the bed and went down to the kitchen to get something to eat when she saw Doombringer, who had not only managed to clean up the mess from yesterday but also made the kitchen  _ shine.  _ He wiped down the counters, did the dishes, and set them out to dry; when she came down, he was compulsively cleaning an already spotless countertop with a rag. 

When he noticed her, he gave a gentle smile. “Can’t sleep either, huh?” he asked, and she nodded. 

“Have you been down here all night?” she questioned, and he also nodded sheepishly. 

“You had a nightmare, huh?” he asked her, brushing off her question. She confirmed, to which he responded by reaching out an oversized hand. “Want to share?”

She had learned very early that Doombringer could share memories through touch. Ever since they had first done it, he had refused to do it with anyone except Frisk, strengthening their bond just that much more. Usually, on nights like these, when she had a nightmare, she would be more than happy to share it with him; but not this night. For a reason she couldn’t tell, she didn’t want Doombringer to know about her nightmare.

He seemed to sense this, his hand dropping and his face dropping in worry. “Must have really shaken you up,” he said, putting down the rag he was using to clean the counters. He grabbed something from the counter and threw it to Frisk, the TV remote. “I won’t tell Toriel.”

Frisk smiled, sat on the couch, and began watching whatever was on. “Hey Frisk,” Doombringer said from behind her. “I just want to thank you for everything. Without you, I wouldn’t have what I do today.”

She looked at him. “Your my bro,” she said sincerely. “And siblings look out for each other.”

As Doombringer looked into Frisk’s eyes, smiling, he never felt so loved, so at home. He didn’t remember anything about who was before this, about what happened to him that brought him here; but you know what? He was content with that. He was content with never knowing himself because he knew Frisk, he knew Toriel, he knew Sans, he knew Papyrus! He had his friends, his mother, and his sister, and that was all he needed.

And then, a bunch of loud sounds rang out, and it was all taken away. Bullets tore through the wall, and Doombringer could only watch as Frisk took one to the back. His eyes widened in terror as his sister was killed in front of him.

_ She won’t die, _ he told himself as he bolted up the stairs to Toriel.  _ Her DETERMINATION will save her! _

He reached her room just in time to find some kind of creature grappling with Toriel. It was pitch black, with only the top half of its body and spider legs sprouting out its back; it had razor-sharp teeth and wicked claws. He didn’t know why, but something about this creature… It filled him with rage; without even thinking, he pulled the creature off of Toriel, shoved it against the wall, and then punched its head in, killing it instantly. 

“Mom!” he exclaimed, running over to help Toriel up. “We have to go, now!”

He heard Frisk scream, and all instinct took over. He tore through the house, jumping over the railing and arriving on the scene to see another one of the creatures holding Frisk down against the couch. Doombringer launched himself over the couch and kicked the creature, sending it flying through the wall with a screech. 

Frisk was grunting in pain, holding a nasty looking wound on his side left by the creature’s claws. “We have to get out of here!” he yelled, picking up the girl. Toriel was already coming down the stairs. 3 more of the creatures stumbled in through the broken back door, screeching in a way that set off something inside of Doombringer. He threw Frisk to Toriel and jumped into action; he grabbed the leg of one of them, spun around, and launched them into the air; Doombringer jumped onto the other knocking it onto its back, before bringing his foot down  _ hard _ onto their face, splattering their head onto the floor.

The third ran at him, but he jumped onto their back and grabbed the top and bottom jaw with his hands, before ripping them apart. Then, as if nothing had happened, he ran back over to Toriel and Frisk, whose eyes were wide with shock. “Come on, we have to go!” he shouted, slamming the door off of its hinges in panic. Dread filled him as he saw the community, overrun by these… things! There were hundreds, if not thousands of them! But besides these creatures, there were also other beings contributing to the chaos. These were humanoid but were all different shapes and sizes, some looking similar to anthropomorphic animals while others seemed like demons. 

“There he is!” one of the demon creatures yelled, and they all began to charge at him. Before he could respond, they all tackled him, holding him down. The spider-legged creatures also came to join, attacking Doombringer while the other creatures tried to hold it back. A loud whistle sounded from somewhere in the distance, and the spider-legged creatures suddenly perked up, then beelined straight to the origin of the sound. Frisk and Toriel were forced to their knees next to Doombringer, forming a line that only grew as the rest of their friends were forced to join them. 

“Well, well, well!” an anthropomorphic fox walked up in front of them. He was wearing jeans with no shirt on, revealing scars around his body; his eyes were glowing green…

Doombringer knew this fox… If only he could remember where! 

“I really thought that would be harder,” the fox admitted. The way he spoke didn’t seem evil, it may even have been mistaken for friendly in different circumstances! “But it was almost as if you wanted to be captured!”

“Who are you?!” he demanded, earning a sharp slap from the soldier holding him down. The fox’s eyes widened. 

“He hit you that hard, huh?” he questioned, then chuckled. “You don’t remember a damn thing, do you? Maybe this will remind you.”

The fox showed him a tattoo on his neck, which read  **T-02** . Doombringer’s eyes widened in realization. “Twisted,” the name came to him naturally, though he still didn’t know where he knew it from.

“So your memory can still be jogged,” the fox observed. He then turned his attention to the rest of the monsters. “Before we begin, I just want everyone to know that everything you are about to experience is Doombringer’s fault. He brought this upon you, and now, you will have to pay his price. BLADES UP!”

The soldiers behind everyone summoned black blades. Doombringer struggled, guessing what was about to happen. “Stop!” he begged. “I’ll do anything you want! Just please leave them alone!”

Twisted put up a hand, and the black blades disappeared. “Kiss my foot,” Twisted demanded with a smug look on his face. It was the most degrading, embarrassing thing to make a man do… But it meant saving everyone, it was a small price to pay. So, he did it. And when Twisted asked him to do it again, he obeyed; at Twisted’s behest, he kissed and massaged his foot, licked the ground, did the chicken dance, and even thanked him for it, referring to the fox as “master.”

He did everything he was told, embarrassing himself in front of his entire family. Any respect he had was lost at that moment, he was sure of it. Twisted and his soldiers only laughed at his humiliation, only when they determined that he was void of even a single ounce of pride were they satisfied. 

“I must admit, that was entertaining,” Twisted said, clapping at Doombringer’s performance, who only laid on the ground looking down. “Look at me when I talk to you!”

Reluctantly, he did so, meeting the fox’s amused face. “Bring it forward,” he ordered. A guard appeared behind twisted a mechanism that resembled the portal gun, handing it to Twisted who affixed a dull grey cube to the end. “Now, Doombringer, I agreed to spare your friends, however, in your begging, you did not ask me for your mercy.”

He aimed the gun mechanism at Doombringer and held down the trigger. Instantly, he felt the pull of the machine sucking his very soul from within him. It took and took and took, and just when he thought he couldn’t give any more, it just kept ongoing. As the process continued, he faintly registered that the cube was now glowing red, and growing brighter by the second. His senses were pulled away from him, and he could faintly hear Frisk yelling his name, and then he felt something on his arm. He saw her there, tears in her eyes as she clung onto his for dear life; a guard came and pulled her away, severing her connection with him. He wanted to reach out to her to tell her it was alright; but it was far too late for that now, his grip on reality was starting to slip through his fingertips. 

Twisted said something to him, but he didn’t quite catch it. It wasn’t until he said a name that his mind processed the words. “Nebula,” he had said, and the name bounced around in Doombringer’s mind, shattering everything, every barrier, every wall, every file, and all of his memories came tumbling back to him. Nebula… The girl he was fighting for, fighting to bring back! Why had he let himself get so distracted?! 

No, now was not the time to think about that… Now was the time for revenge. Now was the time to take his pride back! Now was the time to show Twisted the wrath of the Doombringer! NOW WAS TIME TO  **RIP AND TEAR!**

Determination.

In the history of monsters and humans combined, there was no precedent to how much blood was shed that night. 


	10. What A Nice Day...

It was a mystery to Doombringer how he had gotten dragged back into battle. He knew that it had started with a dragon name Blacklight, the son of Fate and Destiny; a cocky bastard, but undeniably powerful. Somehow, even though he had been determined to stay out of multiversal matters, he had not only gotten wrapped up in a battle between Blacklight and The Twisted One, but also the Judge of the multiverse. 

After an intense battle, they managed to defeat The Twisted One…

You know, he had warned them. Warned them that his rage may not quell as soon as The Twisted One was dead, that he may end up hurting one of them… And that’s exactly what happened. In his rage, he had killed Blacklight, the son of Fate and Destiny, and was now on the run once again. 

But now, he had reached the absolute; now, he stood mere meters from the Judge in the lush forest that was her void. She faced away from him, but she knew he was there, and she knew that he had to kill her if he wanted to be free from this torment. 

“So, you’ve been pretty busy, huh?” she asked, still not looking at him. Indeed he had been busy slaughtering any gods foolish enough to go after him, which was a surprising amount. “I have a question for you… Do you believe that anyone could change? That anyone, no matter what they’ve done, could be good if they just tried?”

“No,” he stated. He knew that he was irredeemable, that he had done far too much bad to ever be considered good. She chuckled, still without looking at him.

“Ok then, here’s a better question…” she finally turns around, her left eye glowing red while her white was a complete blank, absent of life. “Do you want to have a bad time?”

He growled and took a step forward in defiance. She sighed.

“Listen,” she told him, “and hear a song the birds are singing… Maybe, sit down a while, watch the flowers blooming? On a gorgeous day this… All I ask is what do you want?”

He flinched. What  _ did _ he want? He didn’t want revenge, he had already achieved that when he killed the Demon Lord and furthered that when he killed The Twisted One, a prized possession of The Nightmares… 

“You know, I remember a time where I nearly died because of an imbalance… Trillions of beings from across the multiverse were not dying when they were supposed to, so the timelines were forced to completely reconfigure… That was your fault, right?”

Enough with this small talk, it was time for what he came for; he roared and ran at her, forming his hand into a blade and thrusting toward her. As soon as he collided with her, she fell away into dust. He whirled around and sure enough, she was there, now the same distance from when they started. 

“Who thought that we’d be here like this together?” she said as he ran at her, but again, she disappeared and reappeared the same distance away. “Honestly, now that I think about it, it was pretty predictable…”

He jumped into the air and brought his blade down, this time, she didn’t disappear; the Judge simply swayed out of the way then elbowed him in the side sending him several meters back. “I’m the Judge,” she continued, “meant to bring order to the multiverse; and you’re the Doombringer, meant to tear it all down.”

He roared again and lunged at her, this time, she stood her ground. She swung her arm toward him, and suddenly red spikes were flying into Dombringer, cutting through him. He fell to the ground, only to have more spikes shoot up from the ground, sucking his lifeforce. Seconds later, he was dead. Of course, this wasn’t his first time dying; in his battles with the other gods, he had almost always died at one point or another; but that was the thing about him: he was too damn angry to die. 

He forced himself back into the void, and back into his body. He roared, and the Judge, who had begun walking away, turned back and sighed. “There was a time when you would do anything to die… Why try so hard now?”

He ignored her, charging toward her. She sent a few more spikes at him, but he wasn’t going to fall for that again! He jumped high into the air, over the spikes; he thought he outsmarted her, but she only smiled; the needles curved upward, and even when he twisted and weaved between them, they came back at him. He growled, folding his wings and diving toward the Judge with a roar of fury. 

However, he was only left with a pile of dust as she teleported again and he landed face-first into the ground; mere seconds later, the needles caught up to him, pummeling him and killing him a second time. 

By the time he returned, he was pissed. The Judge’s face was blank, solemn. “And to think,” she spat. “There was a time where we could’ve been friends… I wish it wasn’t too late to go back to that.”

Before he even attacked, needles began to rain down on top of him; he escaped without being killed, but multiple needles were sticking through him. He roared and ran at her, faster than before. She barely moved out the way, but he was confident she wasn’t going to dodge the next one.

And she didn’t.

She didn’t have to.

Doombringer launched himself at her, fist outstretched. Her eyes widened in surprise before one eye began to glow red and he was stopped mid-air. A smug smile erupted on her face before pushed her hand forward; sending him backward against a tree, where more spikes emerged and killed him again. 

“You know, back then, I liked the idea of being friends with you,” she admitted when he was back. Now, she didn’t wait for him to attack first. Spikes rose from the ground, but he rolled out of the way. At the same time, needles rained down on him. Doombringer dodged and weaved back and forth, ducking under and diving over spikes from all directions. “I thought you of all people would know what it’s like to feel… stuck.”

Doombringer finally made it to her, but she dodged all of his attacks and sent him back once again. The ground rose, creating a platform for him to land on in his new center of gravity. The moment he landed, Doombringer was forced to move as spike rained on him again. “I’m the Judge,” she monologues as he takes needles to chest, arms, and legs, struggling to continue moving. “Which means I have to know everything that ever happens in the multiverse, as to deliver a proper verdict; but I’m not allowed to have an opinion on anything. And if I make a mistake, one tiny miscalculation, or I get distracted by, let’s say a lover, bad things happen.”

Gravity suddenly returned to normal, and he was thrown to the floor. Doombringer bounced off the ground and lunged at the Judge again swinging a bladed hand; she ducked under his swing and clasped her hand into a fist. The ground under Doombringer shot upward, sending him into the air. Needles spawned in all directions; there was no dodging. So, he died again. 

He returned and shot down toward the Judge who jumped back, but she didn’t have time to attack. He roared, bounced up and spinning and throwing sharp pieces of himself at her; but she dodged the all.

She teleported away but was met with him once again as he shot toward her thrusting his sword into her chest. She let out a short squeal as the sword cut int her into her; where the blade made entry, a black void sprouted, wrapping around the landscape. He was thrown back, falling endlessly in a dark abyss. 

Tile suddenly sprouted from all around him, and he slammed into the ground with a loud crack. The void morphed and shifted into a large room with a polished tile floor that alternated between tan and brown. Marbles walls rose high above him studded with large, arched window with colored panes; outside the windows, it looked like a very nice day. The last things to appear were wide quartz pillars that towered up to the ceiling. 

“It’s crushing,” the Judge said, appearing on the other side of the hall. “To know everything, to be the only being in the multiverse capable of making a fully informed opinion, and not be allowed to do it. To not be able to take a break, kiss your husband, or tell your children you love them without dooming them. I was sure you’d know what that would be like, that maybe we could provide each other some sort of closure.”

He charged at her, and she chuckled, sending Doombringer against the wall with a flick of her finger. “But that was silly,” she said, riddling Doombringer with needles once again. “Beings like us… we’ll never get closure, never rest, never stop hurting.”

He roared, punching one of the pillars and sending a chunk of quartz toward the Judge. She easily blocked it, but it was what she did next when Doombringer lunged at her that was enraging. She closed her fist, shattering the chunk into a million tiny pieces, before rearing her fist back; as she pulled back, the tiny rocks moved alongside her and morphed into the shape of an animal skull. The skull’s eye glowed the same red as the Judge’s as she thrust her hand forward, unclenching her fist. Mystic Energy blasted from the mouth, the beam tearing Doombringer to shreds.

“Thought, I must admit, knowing that makes it hard to give anything my all.” She pushed Doombringer back and split the large skull into a bunch of tiny ones before sending them at Doombringer. He jumped and weaved between dozens of tiny beams as the tiny blasters swarmed him. He roared and released a pulse of energy, destroying the swarm, and jumped at the Judge.

Two of the pillars smashed together with him in the middle. He grunted and shattered both pillars, only to have the pieces be turned into another skull. He dodged and weaved but was eventually consumed by the energy beams. 

“But that expression… it tells me I can’t afford to care anymore,” she said, adding tons of tiny needles and spikes to the mix. He ducked under beams, dodged needles, and jumped over spikes from the ground.

She killed him again and again. No matter how angry he got, her rage overcame it; they were opposites, his rage loud and destructive, while hers was silent but fiery. 

“Even after all you did, all the people you killed, he still believed in you… to the very end,” she said, referring to Blacklight. Doombringer remembered how he had refused to fight, convinced that he could overcome his rage; he was wrong.

So, she killed him once again. She kept going until sweat beaded her forehead. She kept attacking.

Her attacks got weaker and weaker, slower, easier to dodge; more predictable.

They kept attacking.

She kept sending attacks, and she got lower to the ground. Her glowing eye flickered for a moment before she regained her composure and kept going. Doombringer knocked away the needles, catching them and throwing them to the side or back at the Judge.

They kept attacking.

The judge panted as Doombringer approached, she sent him back against the wall, but he dropped down and dug his claws into the floor until she no longer had the energy to sustain her gravity manipulation. She pulled material from the pillar, forming a skeleton with fired a continuous beam; Doombringer used his hand blade to deflect the beam and destroy the blaster.

In a final, desperate attempt, she sent a few more spikes at him, but they were far too slow to pose any sort of threat. He knocked them to the floor, and caught the last one, throwing it back at the judge, where it stabbed through her hand. She grunted and fell back, rolling onto her side. Her glowing red eye flickered, then faded.

“Listen and hear a song the birds are singing, sit down a while and watch the flowers blooming…” she whispered… was she singing? “A gentle breeze flows by, leaving a trail of dust. How could you have done this?”

She raised her hand to conjure something, but Doombringer, with one swift motion, cut it off. She growled in pain, backing up. She looked him in the eyes, and Doombinger realized that it was the first time she’d done that in their entire fight. How long had they been fighting? There was no way to tell. It could’ve been days, it could’ve been years. But that didn’t matter, did it? No, because it was finally over.

“Is there even a glimmer of hope?” she asks suddenly, looking up at him smiling with silent tears streaming down her face. “Even the smallest sliver of a chance that you’ll choose to do the right thing?”

He only stood there and grunted in dismay as she crawled her way against one of the walls; leaning against it to support herself. “You know… even as I killed you, I was secretly thinking  _ please Doombringer, if you’re in there just… have a change of heart… _ Silly, I know…”

Doombringer took his time getting over to her, his rage settling down a bit. Did he really want to kill her? No. He didn’t. The answer was plain and simple, but did he  _ have _ to kill her? Unfortunately, the answer to that was yes.

“Listen and hear a song the birds are singing…” she said, her voice cracking in short sobs as she sang. “Sit down a while… watch the flowers blooming…”

Doombringer found his own hands shaking as he raised his blade, and in the back of his mind, he secretly hoped he’d miss.

He didn’t.

“What a nice day…”


	11. Qinter Shorts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I was looking at fanart last night and thought of these randomly.

**A quick collection of shorts I thought of randomly.**

It had been too long since Qibli had been out the house by himself. While, admittedly, he wasn’t a big fan of it (it would be great if it weren’t for all the walking, flying, or being outside), it was still nice to feel the breeze on his scales. He had told Winter he’d be gone for a couple of hours, but in hindsight, he didn’t know why. He got sore when he was laying down wrong, how did he think he could walk around a forest for hours on end?

So, naturally, a few hours turned into 20 minutes, which was still quite impressive for him! His doctor was sure to be impressed. However, it was when he got back that he was truly rewarded for his efforts.

He had noticed something was off right away. By this time, Winter should be at work, however, he heard the icewing doing… something upstairs. It was when he went to investigate what that  _ something  _ was that Qibli got his daily recommended dose of serotonin. 

You see, not long ago, Winter had bought a record player. Qibli was allowed to use it whenever the icewing wasn’t there, but Winter primarily used it. They came with these headphones, and for some reason, his mate always seemed  _ so _ secretive about what he was playing on them! Making sure to stop humming whenever Qibli entered, or close the case slightly to hide the disk.

But this time, he didn’t know that Qibli was in the house. And so, there the icewing was, wearing his headphones, wagging his behind as he danced.

“And he’s long gone,” he sang as he folded laundry. “When he’s next to me. And I realize, the blame is on me!” At this moment, he did a twirl and posed, singing dramatically. “Cause I knew you were trouble when you walked in! So shame on me now. Flew me to places I’ve never been, till you put me down! Oh!”

Qibli only watched in pure amusement as Winter continued to sing and dance. The sandwing remembered when he had been storming out of a room after an argument and caught Winter staring at him, so he had given him a little booty shake. The icewing had exclaimed that he was surprised he would stoop to such a low level as to do such an indignant act. However, despite all that, the booty shakes and sways Winter was unintentionally giving the sandwing were  _ scandalous! _

“Now I’m lyin’ on the cold hard ground!” he sang whipping his head around sassily.  _ That’s  _ when his eyes caught Qibli. “Oh! Ooo-AAAAAAAAAAH!”

He yanked his headphones off and threw them across the room, looking at the snickering sandwing. He was terror-stricken, and he stared in utter and complete silence. Finally, after several moments, Winter cleared his throat. “You saw nothing,” Winter growled at him. Qibli scoffed. 

“I saw  _ everything, _ ” the sandwing insisted with a smirk. He had once caught the icewing holding a magazine filled with sandwing models. In all of these instances, Winter did not become as flustered as he did just now. 

Qibli chuckled and strutted forward cockily, while Winter looked away shamefully. The sandwing gave a pouty lip and kissed the icewing on the cheek. “You’ll have to sing for me again sometime,” he informed his mate, turning his face to kiss him on the lips. “You snow it to me.”

And Winter had to wallow in the fact that because of this event, he could not tell Qibli how  _ awful _ that pun was.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“You dare enter my domain?” Qibli boomed jokingly. The sandwing was preparing dinner for the both of them, and Winter knew better than to get in the way while he was at work (he could never forget the hot pocket incident of 83. What happened? I’ll give you a hint: Qibli wasn’t cooking hot pockets.)

“Can I not give my boyfriend some love while he cooks?” Winter questioned playfully, though he knew that wasn’t the reason he was here. But he didn’t just want to outright say it! He had to work his way up to it… slowly…

“I guess that’s acceptable,” Qibli decided and Winter practically climbed on top of him, leaning against his back and kissing his neck. “Alright, I’m strong but a disabled person still has their limits!”

Winter chuckled and got off, kissing his cheek lovingly. “You seem oddly cuddly today,” the sandwing observed. “Something on your mind?”

The icewing sighed. There  _ was _ something on his mind. “Am I…” he hesitated. He knew what he wanted to say, but should he say it? How would he word a question like that? “I mean… in your opinion… not judging but… do you think… that I’m good enough… for you?”

Qibli looked at him worriedly, setting down all of his cooking utensils. He grabbed both sides of Winter’s face. “Of course you are!” he insisted, leaning in to kiss Winter. The icewing turned his face away.

“I-I know you say that,” he said. “But is that how do you really feel? I-I know I’m not the most affectionate dragon… And I can be a jerk sometimes-”

“Stop it,” Qibli demanded. “You are perfect. Whoever told you otherwise clearly hasn’t gotten to know you.”

“It was my mother,” Winter said shamefully.

“My point still stands,” the sandwing insisted. “You are the most loyal, honorable, and loving dragon I’ve ever met. Don’t you dare tell me otherwise, or I’ll beat you up, and then I’ll have to beat myself up for beating you up? Nobody wins in that case.”

Winter chuckled and kissed Qibli, who quickly pulled away. “Moons above!” he exclaimed, and the icewing soon realized that the pot he was cooking in was now flaming. He used his frost breath to extinguish the flames.

“I hope you like frozen chili dogs,” Qibli said sheepishly.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Qibli awoke with a start, fearing the worst, only to realize that it had only been a dream. He took multiple deep breathes, noticing how they were sweating despite being born for hot temperatures. 

It had been yet another nightmare about himself, back when Moon died. Every one of his dreams was different, and yet, they all ended in about the same way. With the angry, hateful version of him standing in front of Winter. And just as he lunged for the icewing’s throat, he would wake up.

The worst part was that in the dream, Qibli would  _ want _ to do it. At the moment, he felt like everyone he was hurting deserved it, even Winter! And then, when he woke up, he was left with this sickening feeling of shame. He looked at his mate, who was sleeping peacefully next to him, and questioned once again why he was gifted to him?

Qibli knew he didn’t deserve the icewing, and yet, he was still in his life! With his looks and caring nature, he could probably pick up anyone in Pyrrhia! Why did he choose a broken sandwing with mommy issues?

He shook his head and got out of bed, leaving his mate to sleep peacefully, and went outside to get some fresh air. His heart was still pounding inside of his chest and his stomach was in a knot. 

It was still inside of him, he could feel it. That dark ball of twisted-up hate and pain, ready to be released at a moment’s notice. But he couldn’t-- he  _ wouldn’t _ let it out. He would never let it out again. 

The knot in his stomach squeezed tighter as if in protest to his declaration.

“Can’t sleep?” Winter called from behind him. His mate wore a warm smile and approached him slowly. Qibli nodded, leaning against his shoulder. Ironically, in the icewing's presence, his anxieties were already beginning to melt. “Want to talk about it?”

The sandwing shook his head. He knew that he should tell Winter, and he would probably have to at some point, but, in all honesty, he wanted to delay that for as long as possible. 

He nodded in understanding and was content to simply stand there, consoling the sandwing with his presence. Qibli sighed in appreciation of the wonderful dragon he called his mate. He thought of his nightmare again, about the end of it. 

_ I would never, _ Qibli told himself. He loved Winter far too much to hurt Winter! Even if he lost control, that would surely be the line that he couldn’t cross… right? Winter was his mate, his lover! They could never hurt each other…

Well…  _ they _ would never hurt each other. But that darkness, that evil inside of him… he had a feeling that if it got out, it wouldn’t have the same boundaries as the sandwing would.

To his surprise, Qibli found tears rolling down his cheeks. The knot in his stomach returned, and his dread overtook his will. He began crying into Winter’s shoulder, nuzzling it as if he expected the tears to freeze, forcing his cries to cease; it didn’t work. Soon sobs racked his body as tears streamed uncontrollably from his eyes. 

Winter’s eyes widened in surprise and worry, holding Qibli to his chest. “Sssshhh,” he consoled, stroking the back of the sobbing sandwing’s head. “It’s ok. You’re ok…”

For a long time, Qibli sobbed into Winter’s chest, wanting to stop but not having the strength to do so. As he cried, the knot in his stomach slowly deflated, growing less and less painful as he did.

He hated this feeling. This feeling of helplessness, of being filled with such awful emotions that he couldn’t help himself. He had to rely on others to solve it for him. It made him feel weak and vulnerable, having to rely on others so totally. Every other time he had felt this, he had no one to support him, and anyone who could have didn’t. 

But now, he had Winter… 

Finally, after too long, he was able to stop. But Winter didn’t push him away, and Qibli didn’t pull away. 

**Author's Note:**

> Please comment, I'm so lonely.


End file.
